THE  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 


Katherine    ....    in   the   big  chair    ....    listening  was   certain 
that  neither  Belknap  nor  Roberta  suspected  her  nearness. 


Author  of 

"Alias  the  Night  Wind"     "The  Two-Faced  Man," 
"The  Girl  by  the  Roadside,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
THE    MACAULAY    COMPANY 

1919 


Copyright,  1918,  by  The  Frank  A.  Munsey  Co. 

Copyright.  1919,  by 
THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 


TO  ONE  STEADFAST  FRIEND 

WHOSE  ADVICE  AND  SUGGESTION  I  OFTEN  SEEK 
INSPECTOR     JOSEPH     A.   FAUROT 

OF   THE   NEW   YORK    POLICE    DEPARTMENT 

THIS  BOOK  IS  GRATEFULLY  INSCRIBED 

BY  THE  AUTHOR 


2138641 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    BETWEEN  THE  PORTIERES 9 

II.    THE  INSOLENCE  OF  BELKNAP 17 

III.  A  VOICE  ON  THE  WIRE 22 

IV.  THE  THREAT .     .     .  29 

V.    LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 38 

VI.    GANESVOORT  54320  .........  45 

VII.    BEWARE  OF  THE  STRANGER 52 

VIII.    THE  BEAUTIFUL  PIANISTE  ......  57 

IX.    LADY  KATE  GETS  WISE 66 

X.    THE  OLD  DAGUERREOTYPE  ......  76 

XI.    MIDNIGHT — AND  AFTER 85 

XII.    HARVARD'S  STRATEGY 94 

XIII.  NIGHT-TIME  COMPLICATIONS 102 

XIV.  A  SCREAM — AND  THREE  SHOTS       ....  108 
XV.    A  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY 118 

XVI.    AN  APPALLING  SITUATION 125 

XVII.    IN  THE  SENORITA'S  ROOM 132 

XVIII.   ONE  QUALITY  OF  FEAR 142 

XIX.    A  MAN  IN  THE  OPEN 147 

XX.    THE  FACE  IN  THE  FLAME 155 

XXI.    FLINT  AND  STEEL 164 

XXII.    THE  FORBIDDEN  NAME 171 

XXIII.    THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  KENTUCKY     ...  181 

V 


VI 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIV.  BLACK  JULIUS  RIDES 188 

XXV.  THE  MAN  FROM  WASHINGTON 194 

XXVI.  THE  RETURN  OF  CARRUTHERS 200 

XXVII.  THE  SIGNAL   . 210 

XXVIII.  A  NIGHT  OF  MANY  DANGERS 219 

XXIX.  THE  HOUSE  OF  ALADDIN 224 

XXX.  BLACK  JULIUS  SPEAKS 232 

XXXI.  BRAINARD,  OF  THE  SECRET  SERVICE    .     .     .  239 

XXXII.  BELKNAP'S  DILEMMA 249 

XXXIII.  WHAT  ROBERTA  HAD  TO  TELL       .     .     .     .  257 

XXXIV.  THE  DEVOTION  OF  JULIUS  ......  265 

XXXV.  BELKNAP  SHOWS  His  HAND 275 

XXXVI.  THE  JINEE  ON  GUARD 282 

XXXVII.  THE  WISDOM  OF  LADY  KATB 291 

XXXVIII.  RODERICK  AND  JULIUS 297 

XXXIX.  FULFILLING  THE  COMPACT 303 

XL.  BELKNAP'S  PREPARED  GETAWAY  ...  310 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 


LADY  OF  THE   NIGHT  WIND 


CHAPTER  I 

BETWEEN  THE  PORTIERES 

KATHERINE  HARVARD  parted  the  curtains  ever  so 
little  and  peeped — the  word  is  used  advisedly — into 
the  smaller  room,  and — the  thing  that  she  discovered 
was  so  amazing,  so  astounding,  so  paralyzing  in  its 
effect  upon  her  that  for  an  interval  she  stood  perfectly 
still,  without  moving,  barely  breathing;  indeed,  it 
seemed  to  her  as  if  her  heart  had  stopped  beating. 

Her  impulse  in  approaching  the  curtains  and  part- 
ing them  thus  silently  had  been  one  of  playful  mis- 
chief only.  The  thought  that  she  might  see  something 
forbidden,  something  not  meant  for  her  or  anybody 
to  see,  had  not  remotely  occurred  to  her. 

She  knew  that  five  of  her  guests  were  playing  cards 
in  that  little  room  off  of  her  husband's  den — bridge, 
she  had  assumed — and  had  decided  that  it  was  high 
time  for  them  to  forego  their  game  and  join  with  the 
others  on  the  veranda  and  the  lawn;  and  so  she  had 
sought  them. 

There  had  been  no  sound  of  her  approach,  although 
she  had  not  intended  it  to  be  silent  or  stealthy.  She 
had  ascended  the  stairs  swiftly,  passed  through  the 
open  doorway  into  the  den,  crossed  it  to  the  curtains, 
parted  them — and  had  come  upon  that  stupefying 
knowledge — that  hideously  unthinkable  monstrosity — 

9 


10  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

a  cheat.  A  cheat  at  a  gentleman's  game  of  cards.  A 
cheat — a  swindler!  for  the  man  could  be  nothing  else 
— and  he  was  one  of  her  accepted  guests. 

She  was  herself  not  seen ;  her  nearness  was  not  sus- 
pected; each  man  of  the  five  was,  at  the  moment,  bus- 
ily intent  upon  his  cards.  Even  the  three  who,  by  a 
mere  lifting  of  their  eyes  would  have  discovered  her, 
looked  only  upon  their  respective  holdings.  The  backs 
of  the  remaining  two  were  toward  her;  one  of  them 
obliquely;  the  other  one  directly.  She  stood  at  the 
parting  of  the  curtains,  immediately  behind  him,  where 
she  could  look  down  over  his  shoulder  upon  the  hand 
he  held — where  she  could  plainly  see  what  he  did  and 
what  he  was  doing. 

Very  gently  indeed  she  permitted  the  curtains  to 
fall  together.  She  moved  backward,  away  from  them, 
exerting  the  utmost  care  to  avoid  the  slightest  sound 
that  might  betray  her  presence.  She  retreated  to  the 
doorway  and  halted  at  the  threshold.  From  there, 
after  a  moment,  she  called  aloud,  using  the  given  name 
of  one  of  the  players — her  intimate  friend,  and  Bing- 
ham's. 

"Tom!  Oh,  Tom!"  she  said.  "Are  you  men  still 
playing  cards — spoiling  the  afternoon  for  the  others 
by  your  selfishness?" 

Then,  while  at  least  three  of  the  five  responded,  she 
crossed  to  the  curtains  and  drew  them  wide  open. 

Tom  Clancy  was  already  on  his  feet. 

"All  through,  Lady  Kate,"  he  announced,  with  the 
easy  formality  of  an  old  and  intimate  friend.  "Lucky 

thing,  too.  I'd  have  been  a  bankrupt  in "  He 

stopped  shame-facedly,  and  grinned. 

Katherine  shook  a  finger  at  him,  half  playfully,  yet 
reprovingly,  pretending  not  to  notice  the  perfectly  ap- 
parent evidences  of  high  play  that  were  all  about  her, 


BETWEEN  THE  PORTIERES  11 

in  the  expressions  of  the  faces  of  the  five  men,  and 
upon  the  table. 

"You  have  been  breaking  my  rule,  Tom,  haven't 
you?"  she  asked;  and  plainly  did  not  expect  an  an- 
swer. Then  she  turned  to  the  man  whose  back  had 
been  directly  toward  her  when  she  parted  the  cur- 
tains the  first  time,  and  said  smilingly — even  ingenu- 
ously : 

"You  are  almost  a  stranger,  Mr.  Belknap,  so,  of 
course,  you  could  not  have  known  that  I  strongly  ob- 
ject to  gambling,  particularly  among  my  guests  at 
Myquest.  But  the  others,  all  of  them,  did  know — 
so,  I  will  suggest" — she  turned  a  smiling  face  toward 
the  others,  permitting  her  glance  to  rest  upon  each 
one  of  them  for  an  instant  at  a  time — "that  the  win- 
ner, or  winners,  make  restitution  to  the  losers.  Of 
course  you  will  all  agree  to  that,  to  please  me?  How- 
ever, I  did  not  come  here  to  chide  you.  I  want  you 
to  come  down  to  the  veranda  at  once;  really;  as  soon 
as  the  winners  have  made  good  to  the  losers.  And, 
please,  no  more  gambling." 

She  left  them  then  still  smiling,  leaving  behind  her 
the  impression  that  she  had  no  idea  that  they  might 
not  obey  her  suggestion,  which  had,  in  fact,  amounted 
to  a  mandate. 

Four  of  the  erstwhile  players  made  no  comment 
whatever  after  Katherine  had  gone.  The  fifth — Mr. 
Conrad  Belknap,  so  called — smiled  coldly,  a  slow,  half- 
sneering  smile  that  was  not  pleasant  to  see,  and  which 
raight  have  been  ingratiating,  submissive  to  circum- 
stance, or  insulting,  according  as  one  wished  to  take  it. 

"Of  course,"  he  said,  shrugging  his  shoulders  sig- 
nificantly, "if  you  gentlemen  wish  to  take  advantage 
of  Mrs.  Harvard's  dictum  and — er — receive  back  what 
you  have  lost,  I  will  obey  her,  and  return " 


12  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Don't  be  an  ass,  Belknap,"  Clancy  interrupted 
sharply.  "Come  on,  all  of  you.  We're  wanted  be- 
low and  out  on  the  lawn.  We  will  write  our  checks 
for  you  a  little  later,  Belknap;  and  if,  in  the  mean- 
time, Mrs.  H.  should  ask  questions,  which  she  is  not 
likely  to  do,  it  can  truthfully  be  said  that  not  a  dollar 
in  money  has  changed  hands.  Get  me?  Now,  let's 
join  the  others  downstairs." 

The  five  descended  the  stairs  together,  and  sepa- 
rated as  they  came  out  upon  the  veranda.  Belknap 
dropped  upon  a  vacant  chair  beside  Betty  Clancy, 
Tom's  wife,  who  was  chatting  with  the  small  group 
of  ladies  around  her  and  painstakingly  manipulating 
silk  floss,  needle,  bodkin,  and  embroidery-frame  with 
abundant  skill  at  the  same  time.  Archer,  Sears,  and 
Demming  wandered  with  apparent  aimlessness  toward 
the  tennis  courts  while  they  began  to  talk  earnestly 
together;  and  Tom,  after  hesitating  at  the  top  of  the 
steps  to  light  a  fresh  cigar,  felt  a  soft  arm  slipped  be- 
neath his  own,  and  heard  Katherine's  voice  remark,  so 
that  the  others  might  hear  her: 

"Walk  around  to  the  kennels  with  me,  Tom.  I  want 
to  show  you " 

When  they  had  turned  a  bend  in  the  path,  and  were 
lost  to  view  from  the  veranda,  Katherine  asked 
abruptly  : 

"Tom,  just  who  is  Mr.  Conrad  Belknap?" 

"Search  me !"  Clancy  replied.  "You  ought  to  know 
better  than  I.  Doesn't  Bing  know  him?  Where  is 
Bing,  anyhow?" 

"He  was  detained  in  town  and  will  be  out  later ;  about 
five  or  six  o'clock,  he  said,  over  the  telephone.  .  .  No ; 
Bing  doesn't  know  Mr.  Belknap.  Neither  of  us  ever 
saw  him  or  heard  his  name  before  yesterday.  The 
Archers  brought  him  with  them  yesterday  afternoon. 


BETWEEN  THE  PORTIERES  13 

He  is  staying  at  their  house — quite  unexpectedly, 
Belle  told  me,  when  she  telephoned  to  ask  if  she  could 
bring  him  along.  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  might  have 
met  him  in  town — that  you  might  know  something 
about  him." 

"He  certainly  is  some  poker  player  if  anybody 
should  ask  you,"  Clancy  remarked  with  a  wry  smile. 

"Poker!  when  you  know  that  I  disapprove!  Really, 
Tom,  I  am  surprised  at  you,"  Katherine  returned  with 
a  half-mock  show  of  indignation. 

"Oh,  well,  I'm  sorry.  It  shall  not  occur  again;  that 
I  promise  you." 

"No,"  she  said,  as  if  that  were  a  foregone  conclusion. 

"We  were  playing  bridge — Demming,  Archer,  Sears, 
and  I — when  Belknap  joined  us.  We  had  just  fin- 
ished a  game.  Five  can't  play  at  bridge,  you  know. 
Somebody  suggested  a  small  game  of  poker — just  a 
few  hands,  and " 

"Who  suggested  it,  Tom?" 

"Blest  if  I  remember;  probably  I  did;  I'm  always 
doing  the  assinine  thing,  you  know." 

"It  was  not — really — what  you  would  call  a  small 
game,  was  it?" 

"Hardly." 

"But" — Katherine  stopped  and  stood  facing  him  in 
the  pathway,  and  there  was  an  unmistakable  twinkle 
in  her  eyes  when  she  continued — "it  is  all  right  now, 
isn't  it?  Of  course  you  all  did  as  I  suggested  about 
the  winnings  and  losses?" 

Tom  Clancy  laughed  aloud;  then  he  chuckled;  then 
he  grinned,  broadly. 

"If  I  weren't  entirely  respectful  to  my  hostess  I 
might  reply  as  I  did  to  Belknap  when  he  suggested  it 
after  you  had ' 

"Did  he  suggest  it,  Tom?" 


14  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Yes — with  a  nice,  new,  superdreadnaught  anchor- 
chain  welded  onto  it.  You're  much  too  good  a  sport, 
Katherine,  to  expect  that  we  could  accept — of  course 
we  couldn't  welch  on  our  losses.  You  know  that." 

She  nodded. 

"I  understand,"  she  said.  "Was  Mr.  Belknap  the 
only  winner,  Tom?" 

"Practically.     Harry    Archer    was    a    few    dollars 

ahead,  I  believe,  but Clancy  stopped  speaking. 

Then,  quite  seriously,  he  asked:  "What  are  you  try- 
ing to  get  at,  Lady  Kate?  The  game  was  perfectly 
fair,  if  that  is  what  you're  driving  at.  Belknap 
played  in  phenomenal  luck,  that's  all,  and  so  far  as 
its  having  been  a  stiff  game  is  concerned,  that  part  of 
it  was  really  my  own  fault." 

"How  was  that?     Please  tell  me." 

"Oh,  I  happened  to  catch  a  pretty  good  hand — 
cold.  See?  I  made  the  remark  that  if  it  were  only 
'table-stakes' — and  so  forth;  you  know  the  rest. 
Everybody  was  willing,  and  I  won  the  pot.  After  that 
— well,  the  sky  was  the  limit.  We  just  drifted  into 
it." 

"I  see;  I  understand,"  Katherine  replied  absently. 
"Shall  we  go  back?  There  isn't  a  thing  at  the  kennels 
to  show  you ;  you  know  the  dogs  as  well  as  I  do.  Sup- 
pose we  try  a  foursome.  You  take  Belle  Archer,  and 
I'll  ask  Harry  to  play ;  they  both  love  it." 

"Look  here,  Katherine,  if  you  expect  that  I'm  going 
to  quiz  Belle  about  her  gues ' 

"My,  my,  my!  I  had  forgotten  all  about  him.  He 
really  is  unusually  good-looking,  don't  you  think?" 

"Who?     Belknap?     Uhuh.     I  suppose  so." 

Later,  when  the  tennis  had  been  played,  and  Kath- 
erine and  Harry  Archer  had  seated  themselves  for  a 
moment  to  rest  beneath  the  spreading  shade  of  a  box- 


BETWEEN  THE  PORTIERES  15 

elder,  she  remarked,  casually,  and  apropos  of  nothing 
in  particular: 

"Is  Mr.  Belknap  quite  an  old  acquaintance  of  yours, 
Harry?  He  is  a  handsome  man,  and  such  an  inter- 
esting talker.  Have  you  known  him  a  very  long  time  ?" 

"Never  saw  him  in  my  life  until  day  before  yester- 
day— Thursday,  you  know,"  was  the  indifferent  re- 
sponse of  the  always  blunt  and  outspoken  Archer, 
whose  inheritance  had  been  a  comfortably  large  for- 
tune, a  great  and  never-varying  good  nature,  and  only 
a  nominal  supply  of  wit  and  brains.  "He  blew  in  to 
see  me  at  the  office,  you  know;  brought  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction from  Beekman  Storrs — Beeky  'n*  I  were 
chums  at  Old  Eli,  y'  know — so  I  asked  him  down  to 
Ledgewood.  Belle  gave  me  the  devil  for  it,  too;  said 
I'd  no  call  to  do  it  when  I  knew  we  were  comin'  here 
for  the  week-end,  'n'  I  told  her  to  fetch  him  along. 
She  phoned  to  you,  didn't  she?" 

"Oh,  yes,  and  it  was  perfectly  all  right.  It  always 
is,  Harry,  to  bring  your  guests  with  you,  if  you  have 
any.  They  are  calling  us.  Shall  we  go  in?" 

Katherine  was  no  longer  in  a  dilemma. 

Until  she  had  satisfied  herself  that  Conrad  Belknap 
was  really  nothing  more  than  a  passing  acquaintance 
of  the  Archers,  she  had  not  known  what  course  to  take 
after  her  discovery  of  the  true  character  of  the  un- 
bidden guest;  but,  after  the  short  conversation  with 
Harry,  her  duty  seemed  extraordinarily  clear. 

She  went  about  it,  too,  with  her  customary  direct- 
ness, having  determined  that  she  would  indulge  in  no 
confidences  whatsoever,  concerning  what  she  had  seen ; 
she  decided  that  she  would  not  even  confide  in  her  hus- 
band— until  after  their  guests  had  departed,  Sunday 
evening,  and  Monday  morning. 

Harvard  arrived  in  time  to  dress  for  dinner.     After 


16  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

it  they  all  went  again  to  the  wide  veranda,  for  the 
month  was  June,  and  the  evening  an  unusually  warm 
one,  even  for  that  time  of  year. 

Presently,  when  another  half-hour  had  passed,  Kath- 
erine  left  her  chair,  paused  at  the  top  of  the  steps, 
and  said  to  Belknap,  who  was  seated  there: 

"Will  you  take  a  walk  in  the  grounds  with  me,  Mr. 
Belknap?  Myquest  is  beautiful  in  the  moonlight, 
viewed  from  a  short  distance." 

He  was  beside  her  instantly,  and  with  ill-concealed 
eagerness ;  and  he  talked  much  and  well,  while  Kather- 
ine  directed  their  steps  toward  a  summer-house  a  few 
hundred  feet  away. 

She  was  silent  meanwhile,  replying  to  him  only  in 
monosyllables — until  she  stopped  and  turned,  con- 
fronting him  in  the  moonlight,  directly  in  front  of  it. 

"Mr.  Belknap,"  she  began,  without  preface,  "I  had 
a  distinct  purpose  in  asking  you  to  walk  with  me  just 
now.  I  have  a  most  unpleasant  duty  to  perform ;  but  it 
is  a  duty,  and  it  must  be  done.  Please  not  not  interrupt 
me;  there  will  be  no  need  for  you  to  speak  at  all.  It 
is  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  I  was  at  the  curtains  and 
looked  between  them  this  afternoon  while  you  were 
dealing  the  cards  for  that  last  hand  at  poker.  What 
I  saw  then  you  know,  without  the  need  of  telling.  I 
have  brought  you  out  here  to  suggest  that  if  you  can 
find  it  convenient  to  receive  a  message,  by  telephone 
or  telegraph,  that  will  necessitate  your  return  to  the 
city  to-night — at  once — no  other  person  than  ourselves 
will  need  to  know  the  true  reason  for  your  sudden  de- 
parture. But  you  must  go,  to-night." 

If  Katherine  had  anticipated  the  infliction  of  a 
shock  upon  the  swindler,  she  was  disappointed.  He 
only  stared  at  her ;  and  then 

He  laughed  aloud. 


CHAPTER  H 

THE    INSOLENCE    OF    BELKNAP 

"BRAVE  talk,  Mrs.  Harvard;  but" — Belknap 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  grimaced  a  smile  that  was 
plainly  intended  for  insolence  as  well  as  amused  toler- 
ance— "just  talk.  Nothing  more.  You  order  me 
from  your  home — to  leave  Myquest?"  He  shrugged 
again  and  smiled  the  more.  "Very  well,  madam,  I 
shall — not — go." 

For  a  brief  moment  Katherine  stared  at  the  man, 
too  astounded,  and  vastly  too  indignant  to  reply.  His 
attitude  was  as  amazing  as  it  was  intolerable;  and  the 
fact  that  he  offered  no  attempt  to  deny  the  imputation 
she  had  made  against  him  was  inexplicable — save  only 
that  he  doubtless  comprehended  the  uselessness  of  de- 
nial. 

Argument  with  him  was  out  of  the  question.  She 
had  taken  him  to  the  summer-house  beyond  the  lawn 
to  tell  him  quietly  of  what  she  had  seen,  believing  that 
he  would  slink  away  afterward,  crestfallen  and  beaten. 
Instead,  he  faced  her;  he  laughed  at  her  threat;  he 
sneered  at  and  ignored  the  charge  she  had  made;  he 
received  her  ultimatum  with  contempt;  by  inference, 
he  defied  her.  He !  the  cheat !  the  card-sharp !  the 
swindler  whom  she  had  detected  in  the  act !  He,  whose 
attitude  and  manner  were  confessions  twofold,  even  if 
she  had  not  seen  his  act  with  her  own  eyes. 

Katherine  swung  upon  her  heel.  She  started  swiftly 

17 


18  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

away,  took  two  steps,  and  halted.  Over  her  shoulder 
she  threw  back  at  him: 

"There  is  a  train  for  the  city  at  ten-forty.  One 
of  our  cars  will  take  you  to  the  station.  If  you  do 
not  make  use  of  it,  I  will  denounce  you  in  the  presence 
of  the  four  men  you  swindled,  and  my  husband.  There 
will  be  no  question  about  your  going  then." 

She  started  on  again,  her  head  held  high,  the  light 
of  righteous  anger  in  her  eyes. 

Belknap  made  no  attempt  to  stop  her,  but  he 
laughed  chuckingly,  and  with  so  much  of  self-assur- 
ance and  contemptuous  indifference  to  her  threat,  that 
she  swung  half  round  to  face  him  again. 

The  man  was  regarding  her  coolly,  quizzically,  un- 
perturbed. 

Whatever  Katherine's  impulse  might  have  been 
when  she  made  the  half  turn  to  face  the  man  a  second 
time,  she  controlled  it — and  herself. 

There  was  something  about  Belknap's  demeanor 
that  infused  a  sudden,  although  indefinable,  sense  of 
fear  into  her  consciousness.  He  appeared  so  utterly 
indifferent  concerning  the  ethics  of  his  position;  so 
contemptuous  of  what  she  might  or  might  not  do  in 
the  premises;  so  cocksure  of  himself  and  of  some 
power  over  her  that  he  was  holding  in  reserve,  to  use 
whenever  the  need  to  use  it — or  the  will  to  do  so — 
should  arise. 

Yes,  that  was  it,  she  determined  swiftly,  even  though 
she  was  barely  conscious  of  such  a  foregone  conclu- 
sion. He  believed  that  he  had  some  unsuspected  hold 
upon  her.  She  would  not  have  had  such  a  thought 
had  she  been  conscious  of  it;  she  would  not,  could  not, 
have  admitted  even  to  herself  that  there  did  exist  a 
circumstance  of  the  past  that  was  the  father  of  that 
unadmitted,  but  still  existent  fear. 


THE  INSOLENCE  OF  BELKNAP  19 

The  thing — or  rather  the  succession  of  incidents 
that  made  up  the  whole — was  so  far  in  the  past  that 
it  had  long  been  buried. 

It  was  not  forgotten — such  experiences  never  are 
quite  that — but  it  might  have  been  said  to  be  unre- 
membered. 

Even  while  she  was  remotely  conscious  of  the  sud- 
den misgiving  within  her  as  she  faced  Belknap  in  that 
brief  interval,  the  skeleton  in  the  closet  of  her  memory 
did  not  rattle  its  bones  with  enough  emphasis  to  cause 
her  a  second  thought  about  it.  The  memory  was  merely 
there,  in  the  back  of  her  mind,  like  an  indistinct  shape 
that  one  can  just  discern  through  a  fog,  but  which  does 
not  assume  enough  of  outline  to  be  recognizable. 

She  had  parted  her  lips  to  speak,  but  she  closed  them 
and  stood  facing  the  man  whose  coldly  cynical  smile 
was  an  epitome  of  all  insolence. 

Everything  about  him  suggested  the  self-assurance 
of  conscious  power  over  her ;  and  yet — and  yet — 

Never  had  the  sound  of  Bingham  Harvard's  voice 
been  more  welcome  than  it  was  at  that  moment  when 
she  heard  him  calling  her  name  from  the  concreted 
pathway,  close  at  hand;  he  came  upon  them  the  next 
instant. 

"I  was  sent  to  take  you  back,"  Harvard  told  her. 
"They  are  planning  something  for  to-morrow,  I  be- 
lieve, and  your  approval  is  needed,  it  seems,  although 
I  assured  them  to  the  contrary." 

If  Katherine  had  been  for  a  moment  obsessed  by 
the  vaguest  of  fantoms  of  the  past,  the  ghost  was 
instantly  laid  with  the  appearance  of  her  husband  on 
the  scene.  She  replied  quite  coolly,  and  with  a  direct- 
ness which  was  meant  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt  in 
Belknap's  mind  that  her  ultimatum  had  been  spoken. 
She  said: 


20  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"We  were  on  the  point  of  returning,  Bingham.  Mr. 
Belknap  has  just  told  me  that  he  is  compelled  to  go 
back  to  the  city  to-night  by  the  ten-forty — within  a 
little  more  than  an  hour.  Will  you  tell  Julius  to  take 
him  to  the  train?" 

She  had  slipped  one  of  her  arms  within  Bingham's, 
and  already  they  were  retracing  their  steps  toward 
the  house,  Belknap  having  fallen  in  beside  them  so  that 
Katherine  was  placed  between  the  two  men. 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,  Mr.  Belknap,"  Harvard 
commented  heartily.  "It  is  too  bad,  really.  We  have- 
n't had  an  opportunity  to  get  acquainted — barely. 
Somewhat  sudden,  isn't  it?" 

"Quite  so,"  Belknap  drawled  slowly,  with  a  sugges- 
tiveness  in  his  manner  of  speech  that  only  Katherine 
could  detect.  "So  sudden,  in  fact,  that  I  am  strongly 
inclined  to  resent  it,  and — ignore  it." 

"Good!"  Harvard  rejoined  earnestly.  He  was  the 
most  hospitable  of  hosts.  "By  all  means  ignore  it, 
if  you  can.  If  the  call  isn't  really  imperative,  you 
know — if  you  can  substitute  the  telephone  for  your 
personal  appearance  in  town,  why,  do  so,  and  stay 
on." 

"Thank  you.  I  think,  now,  that  I  will  d«  so,"  was 
the  cold  reply. 

A  flame  of  hot  anger  surged  from  Katherine's  heart 
to  her  brain. 

The  man  was  insufferable ;  his  effrontery  was  beyond 
belief. 

"Does  he  suppose,"  she  thought  swiftly,  "that  I  will 
hesitate  to  expose  him,  as  I  threatened  to  do?" 

She  stopped  in  her  tracks,  bringing  the  others  to 
a  halt  beside  her,  and  her  impulse  was  to  make  the 
disclosure  of  Belknap's  infamy  to  her  husband  then 
and  there. 


THE  INSOLENCE  OF  BELKNAP  21 

"Bingham,"  she  began  hotly  and  stopped.  She  con- 
trolled the  impulse,  and,  before  there  was  an  appre- 
ciable hesitation  in  her  speech,  continued — not  because 
of  any  delicacy  of  feeling  toward  Belknap,  but  because 
she  feared  a  flaring-out  of  Bing  Harvard's  hot  temper 
upon  the  instant  that  he  should  learn  the  truth. 

"Bingham" — she  moved  forward  again,  and  her 
repetition  of  the  name  was  much  softer,  and  this  time 
held  a  pleading  note — "I  don't  think  you  ought  to 
urge  Mr.  Belknap  to  stay  over.  I  have  been  made  to 
understand  that  his  reason  for  going  is  imperative; 
that  it  is  of  the  gravest  importance;  that,  in  short, 
it  is  a  matter  in  which  his  honor  is  at  stake,  if  I  un- 
derstood correctly ;  so,  dear,  don't  you  see  you  must 
not  put  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  going?  We  ought 
not  ever  to  permit  him  to  remain  at  Myquest  under 
such  circumstances." 

That  time  Belknap  did  not  offer  to  reply,  and  while 
Harvard  murmured  something  entirely  conventional, 
Katherine  shot  a  covert  glance  from  the  corner  of  her 
eyes  at  her  unwelcome  guest. 

He  was  smiling  with  a  complacency  that  was  utterly 
amazing  to  her,  and  she  understood  in  that  instant 
that  he  was  as  decided  as  ever  that  he  would  not  go. 

More  than  ever  she  was  as  determined  that  he  should. 


CHAPTER  III 

A   VOICE   ON    THE   WIRE 

IT  so  happened  that  Harry  Archer  and  his  wife  were 
standing  together  at  the  top  of  the  veranda  steps,  and 
that  Julius — Katherine's  black  servant  and  trusted 
chauffeur,  who  had  been  with  her  since  her  childhood — 
appeared  at  that  moment  in  the  doorway,  so  she  seized 
upon  the  double  opportunity. 

"Julius,"  she  called  calmly,  and  when  the  black  came 
nearer,  added:  "Mr.  Belknap  will  want  you  to  take 
him  to  the  ten-forty  train."  Then,  with  barely  a 
pause  in  her  speech,  and  this  time  addressing  the 
Archers :  "Such  unpleasant  news,  Belle.  Mr.  Belknap 
has  just  told  me  that  he  must  leave  us  to-night.  Isn't 
it  too  bad?" 

There  were  expressions  of  surprise  from  every  di- 
rection, for  the  entire  company  had  heard  the  an- 
nouncement. Those  who  were  seated  bent  forward  in 
their  chairs  as  if  to  utter  a  word  or  two  of  protest. 
Tom  Clancy  and  Danford  Demming,  who  were  stand- 
ing, moved  nearer  to  the  group  on  the  steps ;  and  Bel- 
knap, at  the  bottom  of  them,  smiling,  unperturbed, 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  drawled  with  deliberate 
distinctiveness : 

"Really,  I  had  no  idea  that  I  was  so  popular.  You 
know,  I  felt  rather  like  an  outsider — being  such  a 
stranger  among  you — and  probably  I  put  too  much 
emphasis  upon  the  summons  that  I  received,  to  go  to 

22 


A  VOICE  ON  THE  WIRE  23 

the  city  to-night.  But — er — now  that  both  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Harvard  have  urged  me  to  stay,  and — well,  I 
have  changed  my  mind.  I  won't  go.  I  couldn't  think 
of  it  under  the  circumstances.  Julius,  I  won't  need 
you  after  all;  you  need  not  bring  the  car  around. 
Harvard,  if  I  may,  I  will  use  your  telephone." 

He  nodded  genially,  and  without  awaiting  permis- 
sion, ascended  the  steps  and  went  into  the  house. 

While  the  others  were  variously  expressing  their 
approvals  of  Belknap's  change  of  mind,  Katherine 
turned  her  back  to  them,  pinching  her  under  lip  be- 
tween her  teeth  and  tapping  one  foot  impatiently  upon 
the  concrete  walk;  then,  with  a  quickly  spoken  word 
of  excuse  she  turned  away  and  passed  from,  sight 
around  one  corner  of  the  house. 

She  was  suddenly  convinced  that  it  might  be  im- 
portant to  know  to  whom  Conrad  Belknap  desired  to 
talk  by  telephone — if,  indeed,  he  intended  to  make  use 
of  the  wire  at  all;  for,  of  course,  she  knew  that  there 
was  no  necessity  for  him  to  do  so  in  order  to  stay  on 
at  Myquest.  Still,  if  there  was  somebody  who  was 
available  to  him  by  telephone  in  such  an  emergency, 
it  was  up  to  her  to  know  who  the  person  might  be — 
and  because  the  man  was  a  card-sharper,  a  swindler, 
and — she  had  no  doubt  at  all — a  crook,  any  method 
that  she  might  employ  in  contesting  his  effrontery  and 
insolence  would  be  fair. 

Katherine's  former  experiences  as  a  police-headquar- 
ters' detective  stood  for  her  just  then ;  she  had  not  been 
called  "Lady  Kate  of  the  Police"  in  the  days  of  "Alias 
the'  Night  Wind"  for  nothing. 

She  judged  from  Belknap's  manner'  that  he  really 
did  intend  to  telephone  to  New  York  to  somebody ;  and 
for  her  to  know  who  that  "somebody"  might  be,  would 
supply  one  item,  at  least,  in  discovering  his  identity — 


24  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

for  she  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  he  was  not 
what  he  had  made  himself  appear  to  be,  at  Myquest. 

There  were  several  telephones  in  the  house,  and 
Katherine  assumed  that  Belknap  would  seek  the  one 
in  her  husband's  den,  because  of  its  seclusion.  She 
certainly  hoped  that  he  would  do  so,  because  that 
instrument  happened  to  be  on  the  same  wire  that 
communicated  with  her  own  private  sitting-room. 

When  at  Myquest,  Katherine  was  in  the  habit  of 
making  as  much  use  of  Bing's  den,  and  the  little  room 
off  from  it  where  the  card-playing  had  been  indulged 
in,  as  of  her  own  boudoir,  and  for  the  sake  of  con- 
venience the  two  telephones  had  been  connected  as  one, 
the  instrument  in  the  den  being  the  extension. 

The  instant  she  turned  the  corner  of  the  house  she 
quickened  her  pace,  ran  up  the  steps  at  a  side  entrance, 
ascended  the  servants'  stairway  to  the  second  floor, 
and  entered  her  own  suite,  where  she  closed  and  locked 
the  door  after  her. 

Very  gently,  so  that  there  might  be  no  warning  click 
upon  the  wire,  she  lifted  the  receiver  from  the  hook 
and  pressed  it  against  her  ear.  Then  she  smiled, 
breathlessly,  for  she  had  hurried  greatly,  and  she  was 
there  in  time  to  hear  a  voice  say  ".  .  .  three-two-0." 
She  listened-in  at  just  the  moment  when  the  operator 
was  repeating  the  last  of  the  number  asked  for.  (Har- 
vard entertained  so  many  guests  at  Myquest  who 
quite  frequently  made  such  constant  use  of  the  tele- 
phones that  connected  through  the  two-trunk  switch- 
board in  the  butler's-room  that,  for  his  own  conven- 
ience, he  had  long  ago  put  in  an  extra  direct  wire 
from  the  exchange  for  his  own  and  Katherine's  uses.) 

She  heard  the  unmistakable  voice  of  Conrad  Bel- 
knap  reply:  "Right!" 

There  was  a  short  wait  after  that.     Then  the  voice 


A  VOICE  ON  THE  WIRE  25 

of  a  woman — a  voice,  too,  of  unusual  melody  and 
sweetness — called:  "Yes?  Who  is  it,  please?" 

"C.  B.  is  talking,"  Belknap  replied,  speaking  in  a 
low  tone.  "No  names,  please.  Do  you  get  me?" 

"Yes,"  came  the  monosyllabic  response — and  it  was 
remarkable  how  the  voice  of  the  woman  had  altered 
in  that  brief  interval,  to  one  that  was  coldly  formal, 
and  which  somehow  suggested  hardness  and  defiance,  as 
well  as  dislike  and  repugnance. 

"Very  good.  Pay  attention  now.  I  am  not  at 
Ledgewood.  My  present  address  is  at  Myquest,  as 
I  told  you  it  would  be ;  you  know  the  rest  of  it ;  also 
the  telephone  call — if  the  necessity  should  arise  to 
make  use  of  either  one." 

"Very  well,  I  understand.     Is  that  all?" 

"No.  I  shall  be  here  all  through  the  coming  week* 
at  least.  You  must  be  prepared  at  any  moment  to 
carry  out  the  plan  I  made  for  you.  To-morrow  I 
will  write;  you  will  get  my  letter  Monday  morning. 
It  will  contain  full  instructions.  That  is  all. 
Good-by." 

"But "  the  voice  of  the  woman  began  in  an  ex- 
postulating tone;  but  the  click  of  the  instrument  in 
Belknap's  hands  as  he  hung  up  cut  her  off. 

Instantly  Katherine  acted  upon  one  of  those  im- 
pulses which  works  before  one  has  opportunity  to 
take  a  second  thought.  She  spoke  through  the  trans- 
mitter before  she  realized  what  she  did. 

"Please!"  she  said.  "Hold  the  wire!  Wait  a  mo- 
ment." 

Something  that  sounded  like  a  gasp  came  to  her 
ears  through  the  telephone,  and  dead  silence  followed 
it.  But  there  was  no  warning  click  of  disconnection. 
Katherine  knew  that  the  woman  of  the  melodious  voice, 


26  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

and  who  either  disliked  or  feared  Conrad  Belknap,  was 
still  at  the  telephone  listening. 

But  Katherine  did  not  know  what  to  say,  now  that 
she  had  secured  the  woman's  attention.  Why  had  she 
done  it?  Why,  with  her  experience,  had  she  permitted 
herself  to  do  such  a  manifestly  fool-thing  as  that? 
undoubtedly  the  woman  was  a  creature  of  Belknap's — 
a  tool — or  a  confederate;  certainly  she  was  more  or 
less  in  the  card-sharper's  confidence.  His  manner  of 
speaking  over  the  wire  had  assured  Katherine  of  that 
much. 

While  she  hesitated  the  unknown  woman  became 
either  impatient  or  curious.  She  spoke  again,  in  the 
same  hard,  metallic  colorless  voice  in  which  she  had 
replied  to  Belknap,  and  at  once  Katherine's  ingenuity 
came  to  her  aid;  she  determined  upon  a  subterfuge. 

"What  do  you  want?  And — who  are  you?"  the 
woman  asked;  and  then,  before  a  reply  was  possible, 
she  asked  a  third  question.  It  was:  "Are  you  with — 
with  him?  WithC.  B.?" 

"No,  no,  no!"  Katherine  replied  quickly.  "There 
is  nobody  with  me.  Please  listen  to  me ;  please, 
madam  !  I  am  in  terrible  trouble.  I — I — I —  "  and  she 
ended  by  uttering  a  perfect  imitation  of  a  gasping 
sob. 

But  even  so,  before  the  woman  at  the  opposite  end 
of  the  wire  could  speak,  Katherine  continued  rapidly, 
and  brokenly,  as  if  she  were  in  great  mental  distress : 

"Please  tell  me  how  I  can  call  you  on  the  telephone ; 
please,  please,  please  do !  I  cannot  talk  now.  I  dare 
not.  I  am  likely  to  be  interrupted  at  any  moment. 
But  oh,  I  do  so  need  a  friend — a  woman  friend.  Won't 
you  help  me?  Oh,  something  tells  me  that  you  will. 
It  was  your  voice,  I  think." 

"But,  my  dear  young  lady "  the  voice  began. 


A  VOICE  ON  THE  WIRE  27 

"Oh,  you  mustn't  ask  questions,  now.  You  can't 
imagine  what  might  happen  if  I  should  be  caught, 
and  then  I  would  never  have  another  chance  to  use 
the  phone.  Please  be  kind  and  help  me.  I  am  in 
terrible  trouble  and  distress.  Let  me  call  you  up  some 
time,  won't  you,  please?" 

There  was  a  hesitating  silence  at  the  other  end  of  the 
wire.  Then : 

"Very  well.  Ganesvoort  five-four-three-two-0 ;  but 
never  before  midnight,  and  not  later  than  a  half-hour 
after  it.  And  you  must  understand " 

"Oh,  somebody  is  coming!"  Katherine  interrupted. 

"Thank  you.   Oh,  you  can't  know  how  much  good 

She  hung  up. 

Then,  with  a  deep  sigh,  which  was  also  accompanied 
by  a  smile  of  satisfied  approval  of  her  own  act,  she 
leaned  back  in  the  chair  and  wrinkled  her  brows  in 
thought. 

It  had  been  imperatively  essential  that  she  should 
not  say  too  much — nor  too  little — just  then;  but  the 
point,  the  great  point  at  which  she  had  sought  to 
arrive,  was  achieved. 

She  had  succeeded  in  arresting  the  woman's  atten- 
tion and  in  securing  her  sympathy,  without  arousing 
her  suspicion — the  woman  who,  all  too  evidently,  was 
an  accomplice  of  Conrad  Belknap  in  whatever  fe- 
lonious designs  he  might  have  upon  the  house  of 
Harvard. 

Katherine  had  made  it  appear  that  she  was  in  great 
distress,  that  she  was  deeply  in  need  of  a  woman's 
aid  and  sympathy;  and,  knowing,  because  of  the  short 
conversation  she  had  overheard,  that  the  strange  wo- 
man would  be  suspiciously  alert  by  reason  of  her  pres- 
ence on  the  wire,  she  had  succeeded  in  conveying  the 
impression  that  she  had  heard  nothing. 


28  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Also,  the  woman  could  have  no  idea  whence  Kath- 
erine  had  spoken.  She  would  get  the  impression  of 
crossed  wires,  so-called.  She  might,  at  the  next  op- 
portunity, question  Belknap  about  the  circumstance 
covertly;  but  he,  having  already  hung  up  the  receiver 
and  gone,  would  have  nothing  to  impart. 

Altogether,  Katherine  felt  that  she  was  to  be  con- 
gratulated upon  the  achievement  of  a  point  in  the 
battle  of  wits  between  herself  and  Belknap,  for  already 
she  was  convinced  that  the  contest  between  them  had 
reached  that  point.  Had  he  not  coolly  informed  the 
woman  accomplice  of  his  intention  to  remain  at  My- 
quest  "through  the  coming  week,  at  the  least"? 

Oh,  yes,  Katherine  was  determined  that  she  would 
talk  with  the  voice  again;  but  not  too  soon;  no,  not 
too  soon.  There  must  be  time  to  think  and  plan  in 
the  meanwhile.  She  would  have  to  be  wary,  well  poised, 
and  provided  with  a  plausible  story  to  unfold. 

All  of  the  time  while  Katherine  sat  there  turning 
the  incident  over  in  her  mind,  she  was  convinced  of 
two  pleasing  and  helpful,  although  minor,  consider- 
ations: One,  that  the  woman  accomplice  both  dis- 
liked and  feared  Conrad  Belknap;  the  other",  that  the 
possessor  of  such  a  throaty,  richly  melodious,  sym- 
pathetic voice  must  be  good  and  kind  at  heart,  no 
matter  what  might  be  the  condition  and  circumstance 
that  bound  her  to  such  a  knave  as  Belknap  had  already 
proven  himself  to  be.  She  went  out  of  the  room  present- 
ly, strangely  exhilarated — either  because  she  was  con- 
scious of  the  eve  of  battle  between  her  wit  and  her 
unbidden  guest's;  or,  because  of  an  intuition  that  the 
unknown  woman  with  the  sweet  voice  would  some  day 
develop  into  a  friend  in  need,  to  serve  as  a  foil  against 
Belknap.  At  the  top  of  the  stairway,  she  met  him 
face  to  face. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    THEEAT 

"WELL  met,  Mrs.  Harvard,"  was  Belknap's  greet- 
ing. 

His  teeth  gleamed  at  her  beneath  the  close-cropped 
black  mustache,  and  his  oddly  brilliant  eyes  glistened 
with  a  suggested  menace  as  he  smiled  upon  her  coolly, 
for  all  the  world  as  if  he  knew  himself  to  be  thor- 
oughly master  of  the  situation. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Katherine  repressed  a 
visible  shudder. 

The  man  had  become  utterly  hateful  to  her,  and 
strangely  menacing.  It  was  as  if  he  held  a  physical 
threat  over  her  head.  She  controlled  herself  with 
difficulty,  and  compelled  her  voice  to  calmness  while 
she  replied,  with  entire  remoteness,  with  the  air  and 
attitude  of  addressing  an  entire  stranger: 

"That  is  as  you  elect  to  regard  it,  Mr.  Belknap — 
if  that  is  your  name.  I  am  going,  now,  to  ask  my  hus- 
band, and  the  four  gentlemen  with  whom  you  played 
poker,  to  go  with  me  to  the  library.  It  is  my  purpose 
to  tell  them,  plainly  and  unequivocally,  everything  that 
I  saw  when  I  looked  between  the  portieres,  and  to 
describe  your  conduct  since  then  also — unless  you 
choose  to  change  your  mind  again  and  leave  Myquist 
now,  at  once." 

He  made  no  attempt  to  interrupt  her.  He  per- 
mitted her  to  finish  what  she  had  to  say  without  chang- 

29 


30  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

ing  his  attitude  or  altering  his  demeanor;  nor  did  the 
wolfish  smile  leave  his  face.  If  anything,  the  glitter 
in  his  eyes  became  more  mocking  and  insolent — and 
threatening. 

"Brave  words,  Mrs.  Harvard,"  he  responded  coldly, 
retaining  the  inscrutable  smile  as  he  quoted  the  words 
he  had  spoken  to  her  a  half-hour  earlier  at  the  summer- 
house  on  the  edge  of  the  lawn.  Then,  with  a  barely 
perceptible  pause,  he  added,  with  menacing  meaning: 
"I  shall  not  change  my  mind  about  going  away;  I 
shall  not  go.  You  will  change  your  mind  about  what 
you  have  just  threatened  to  do,  for — you  will  think 
better  of  it." 

He  had  been  standing  thus  far  between  her  and  the 
stairway,  but  with  the  close  of  his  statement  he 
stepped  aside,  leaving  her  ample  room  to  pass  him 
if  she  wished. 

"Go  ahead,"  he  said  calmly,  "if  you  have  the  cour- 
age to  take  the  bit  in  your  teeth,  and  run;  but  let 
me  beg  that  you  will  not  forget  that  I  hold  the  reins, 
that  a  curb  is  generally  regarded  as  an  instrument 
of  torture  and — that  I  am  a  merciless  driver  when  I 
encounter  fractiousness.  Go  ahead,  if  you  like.  Call 
your  husband  and  the  others  to  the  library.  Speak 
your  little  piece."  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
permitted  himself  a  low  chuckle  before  he  added :  "But 
unless  you  are  fully  prepared  to  face  the  consequences 
of  such  a  proceeding,  I  strongly  advise  you  not  to  do 
so." 

Katherine  should  have  taken  him  at  his  word,  and 
gone;  but  she  did  not.  She  should  have  carried  out 
her  threat  to  the  end;  but  she  hesitated.  She  would 
have  passed  him  by  without  another  word;  but — she 
temporized.  Even  she,  who  was  not  given  to  tem- 
porizing. 


THE  THREAT  SI 

She  still  faced  him  unflinchingly,  it  is  true;  but 
she  stayed.  There  was  about  her  not  one  outward 
sign  of  fear  or  misgiving;  but  Belknap  knew  that  both 
were  present  in  her  heart  and  brain,  else  she  would 
have  left  him. 

Could  she  have  suspected,  even  remotely,  how  great- 
ly the  game  he  was  playing  depended  upon  her  not 
taking  him  at  his  word — how  much  it  depended  upon 
his  success  in  instilling  in  her  that  nameless  dread  of 
something  intangible,  but  threatening — could  she  have 
guessed  that  three-fourths  of  his  insolent  effrontery 
was  pure  bluff  that  he  had  feared  she  might  not  "fall 
for,"  she  would  have  passed  him  then,  with  head  held 
high,  would  have  summoned  her  husband  and  her 
friends,  and  denounced  Conrad  Belknap  for  what  he 
was.  Instead 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded.  "Am  I  to 
understand  that  you  dare  to  threaten  me?" 

"Precisely  that,  Mrs.  Harvard.  You  have  threat- 
ened me ;  I  give  you  back  threat  for  threat.  I  am 
threatening  you — with  the  consequences  of  what  you 
might  still  very  foolishly  do.'' 

"You  threaten  me — with  what?" 

He  shrugged  again,  took  out  his  cigarette-case,  se- 
lected one  from  it,  and  answered: 

"I  have  just  told  you;  with  the  consequences  of 
an  extremely  foolish  whim  that  you  still  entertain, 
although  not  so  strongly  now." 

"You  are" — she  hesitated — "insufferable!"  she 
ended. 

"I  am — I,"  he  retorted,  showing  his  teeth  in  another 
wolfish  smile. 

It  seemed  then,  for  the  briefest  instant,  as  if  she 
would  indeed  leave  him.  Her  lithe  body  swayed  slight- 
ly forward  in  the  beginning  of  the  act  to  do  so,  but 


32  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

neither  of  her  daintily  shod  feet  moved  under  her.  She 
stood  quite  still. 

Belknap  chuckled  again.  He  restored  the  cigarette- 
case  to  his  pocket,  brought  out  a  gold  match-safe, 
and  coolly  lighted  up. 

She  knew  that  he  did  it  all  purposely  to  test  her; 
to  defy  her ;  to  dare  her  to  carry  out  her  threat.  She 
knew  that  she  ought  to  do  so,  and  bandy  no  more 
words  with  him.  But  she  could  not  do  it. 

She  knew  that  he  was  conquering  her  spirit  by  the 
mere  power  of  his  will,  and  that  for  some  miserably 
unknown  reason  which  she  could  not  define  at  all,  she 
dare  not  defy  him. 

She  knew  that  she  was  frightened,  but  she  did  not 
know  what  it  was  that  she  feared ;  and  in  that  moment 
she  hated  herself  for  temporizing  with  the  man  whom 
she  honestly  believed  to  be  a  real  denizen  of  the  under- 
world— a  crook. 

Having  lighted  his  cigarette,  properly  inhaled  the 
smoke,  and  expelled  it,  he  said,  with  cool  and  careful 
selection  of  each  word  he  uttered: 

"We  all  have  pasts,  Mrs.  Harvard;  some  of  them 
are  made  by  ourselves;  some  of  us  have  them  manu- 
factured for  us  by  others.  But — they  are  none  the 
less  our  pasts,  whether  they  happen  to  be  self-made, 
or  otherwise.  Sometimes  we  try  to  outlive  them  and 
forget  them,  and  we  deceive  ourselves  into  the  belief 
that  we  have  succeeded;  but  they  live — and  they  rise 
up  to  confront  us  when  we  least  expect  it.  I  have  my 
past,  and — it  is  not  all  pleasant,  although  it  was  self- 
made.  You  have  your  past,  and,  although  you  did 
not  make  it  yourself,  and  are  not  responsible  for  it,  it  is 
none  the  less  ugly.  If  you  should  go  now  and  carry 
out  what  you  threatened  to  do,  I  could  see  over  your 
shoulders  while  you  were  thus  engaged,  the  white,  set 


THE  THREAT  33 

features  of  a  person  we  both  knew,  gazing  yearningly 
upon  us — upon  you  particularly — from  between  the 
iron  bars  of  a  narrow  prison  window.  Can  you  guess, 
Mrs.  Harvard,  to  whom  I  refer?" 

It  seemed  to  Katherine  as  if  fingers  of  ice  clutched 
at  her  heart-strings  then. 

In  that  instant  she  understood  the  reason  for  that 
vague  dread  and  fear  that  she  had  sensed  since  the 
moment  when  she  had  faced  this  man  in  the  moonlight 
at  the  summer-house  steps.  She  comprehended  the 
undefined  terror  with  which  he  had  imbued  her,  by 
reason  of  his  wolfish,  crafty  smile,  which  had  informed 
her,  if  she  had  only  believed  it  at  the  time,  that  he 
held  something  in  reserve,  some  knowledge  of  the  past, 
which  emboldened  him  to  defy  her  and  her  threats 
to  expose  him  to  her  husband  and  her  guests  for  the 
cheat  and  swindler  that  he  was;  and  the  last  part  of 
his  statement,  as  if  in  letters  of  fire  that  burned  and 
seared  into  her  brain,  recurred  to  her. 

".  .  .  the  white,  set  features  of  a  person  we  both 
know,  gazing  yearningly  upon  us — upon  you  par- 
ticularly— from  between  the  iron  bars  of  a  narrow 
prison  window.  Can  you  guess,  Mrs.  Harvard,  to 
whom  I  refer?" 

Thus  was  a  ghost  of  the  past  resurrected! 

Thus  was  Katherine  Harvard  brought  face  to  face 
with  a  condition  which  she  dare  not,  could  not,  must 
not)  avoid. 

She  knew,  while  Belknap  slowly  and  incisively  voiced 
the  threat,  that  she  must  surrender,  or,  at  least,  must 
appear  to  do  so.  She  knew  that  she  must  temporize; 
that  she  must  seem,  for  the  time  being,  to  condone 
the  perfidy  of  the  man  who  faced  her  so  coolly,  and 
who  dared  her  to  do  her  worst  against  him. 


34  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

She  realized  that  she  was  compelled  to  surrender; 
that  was  the  terrible  thing. 

Not  because  she  sought  to  spare  herself  any  conse- 
quences of  the  revelation  that  Belknap  threatened; 
let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  by  any  thought  that  Kath- 
erine  harbored  one  grain  of  cowardice,  one  faintest 
streak  of  yellow,  in  her  heart  or  soul.  Let  it  not  be 
supposed  that  it  was  any  consideration  for  herself  that 
compelled  her  to  wave  a  flag  of  truce  to  the  scoundrel 
in  front  of  her. 

Her  courage  was  never  so  great  as  in  that  moment 
when  she  understood  and  acted  upon  the  necessity  that 
confronted  her. 

As  one  will  think  quickly  in  moments  of  extremity, 
so  it  occurred  to  her  in  one  wild  impulse,  to  defy  Bel- 
knap  even  then,  and  to  seek  her  husband  and  confide 
everything  to  him;  but  a  second  thought,  as  quickly 
uppermost  as  the  first  one,  made  her  realize  that  she 
did  not  dare  to  do  that — made  her  understand  that 
she  was  mortally  afraid  to  tell  Bing  Harvard  about 
this  man  who  faced  her,  and  his  threats. 

Again  we  must   not  misunderstand. 

It  was  not  that  she  feared  to  inform  her  husband 
fully  about  the  secret  of  the  past  which  Belknap 
threatened  to  expose.  Not  that.  No,  no ;  not  that. 

The  condition  that  frightened  her  was  Bingham 
Harvard  himself,  and  what  she  perfectly  well  knew 
that  he  would  do  to  Conrad  Belknap  upon  the  instant 
that  he  was  made  to  understand  thoroughly  the  situ- 
ation. It  was  Bingham  Harvard's  temper  that  she 
feared — the  tremendous,  the  superhuman,  the  awful 
strength,  and  the  uncontrollable  temper  when  once 
roused,  of  the  man  who  had  once  borne  the  alias,  The 
Night  Wind. 

She  knew,  just  as  well  as  she  knew  that  it  was  a 


THE  THREAT  35 

despicable  scoundrel  who  threatened  her  at  the  mo- 
ment, that  Harvard,  the  instant  he  was  made  to  un- 
derstand the  situation,  would  become  transformed  into 
a  silent  and  implacable  fury ;  that  he  would  seek  Bel- 
knap  in  a  rage  which  nothing  could  stay  or  hinder, 
and  that  with  his  great  strength  like  unto  that  of 
Samson  of  old,  he  would  seize  the  man  with  his  hands 
and  rend  him  limb  from  limb. 

In  a  word,  Katherine  knew  that  if  she  should  tell  her 
husband  that  this  man  had  dared  to  threaten  her,  his 
wife,  Bing  would  kill  him — kill  him  with  his  hands — 
crush  the  life  out  of  him. 

We  ask — you  and  I — why  not? 

Such  a  killing  would  be  justifiable  under  the  cir- 
cumstances ;  the  world  would  be  well  rid  of  such  a 
contemptible  person;  justice,  when  the  facts  were 
known,  would  deal  gently  with  him  who  did  the  killing. 
Ah !  Therein  was  the  rub — to  say  nothing  of  the 
shuddering  horror  that  Katherine  felt  when  she  con- 
sidered such  a  possibility — the  killing  of  this  man  by 
the  hand  of  her  husband. 

But,  the  facts  behind  such  an  extremity  could  not 
be  made  known;  not  even  to  that  intangible,  that  in- 
choate thing  called  justice.  Then,  too,  she  realized, 
with  still  another  inward  shuddering,  that  even  then — 
even  with  Belknap  silenced  forever  (if  such  a  dread 
possibility  were  to  be  considered),  the  fact  might  not 
stay  the  consequences  of  the  exposure  that  he  had 
threatened  to  make;  the  white,  set  features  of  a  per- 
son she  knew,  might  still  be  made  to  stare  between 
the  bars  of  a  narrow  prison  window. 

Furthermore,  with  the  approach  of  evening  of  the 
succeeding  day,  former  U.  S.  Senator  Maxwilton,  with 
Mrs.  Maxwilton — Katherine's  father  and  mother — 
would  arrive  at  Myquest,  from  their  home  in  Ken- 


36  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

tucky.  That  was  the  hardest  rub  of  all,  for  this  ex- 
posure that  Conrad  Belknap  threatened  to  make  would 
stab  both  of  them  to  the  heart,  would  bow  with  wither- 
ing shame  the  tall  and  stately  form  of  that  proud 
old  man,  and  would  crush,  even  into  the  grave,  the 
stately,  yet  delicately  sweet  mother  whom  Katherine 
adored  with  a  devotion  and  love  that  was  beyond 
words. 

For  the  white,  set  features  that  would  be  made  to 
stare  between  the  bars  of  a  prison  window  belonged  to 
Katherine  Harvard's  brother;  her  brother — Roder- 
ick— the  first-born  of  her  parents — their  son  whom 
they  had  once  so  profoundly  loved,  who  had  begun 
so  bravely  and  so  proudly,  and  who  had  ended  so  mis- 
erably— their  only  son,  whom  both  believed  to  be  dead, 
and  whose  mistakes  and  failures  had  been  forgotten  in 
the  memories  of  his  childhood  and  promise. 

The  mere  suggestion  that  either  of  them  should  ever 
be  made  to  know  that  their  son  Roderick  Maxwilton 
was  still  among  the  living,  and  that  he  might  be,  or 
would  be,  called  upon  at  any  moment  to  pass  into 
another  death — a  living  one — behind  prison  bars,  was 
not  to  be  considered,  no  matter  what  sacrifice  should 
be  fixed  as  the  price  of  avoidance  of  such  a  calamity. 

Katherine  had  believed  that  she  alone  knew  that  her 
brother  was  alive.  She  had,  up  to  the  very  instant 
of  Belknap's  uttered  threat,  had  no  thought  that 
another  person  in  all  the  world  harbored  any  doubt 
of  Roderick  Maxwilton's  death.  There  was  a  grave 
within  the  family  inclosure  on  the  Kentucky  estate 
wherein  he  was  supposed  to  be  at  rest,  and  above  it 
there  was  a  stone  that  bore  his  name  and  the 
date  of  ... 

Katherine  knew  as  well  as  if  Belknap  had  spoken 
the  name,  that  he  had  referred  to  her  brother  Roderick. 


THE  THREAT  37 

Those  flash-light  thoughts  continued  to  dart  in  and 
out  of  her  understanding  during  the  brief  space  of 
her  silence  while  she  faced  the  card-sharper;  those, 
and  others,  coming  and  going  with  the  swiftness  of 
thought  itself,  yet  consuming  no  appreciable  time; 
and  among  them  were  the  natural  questions — "Who, 
then,  is  this  man  who  confronts  me?"  and  "When  and 
how  could  he  have  known  Roderick?" — questions  for 
which,  alas,  she  had  no  answer. 

So  swiftly  did  her  mind  work  that  there  was  no 
appreciable  interval  between  Belknap's  last  utterance 
and  Katherine's  response  to  it. 

She  could  not  reply  in  words ;  she  had  none  to  use, 
just  then.  But — 

With  a  haughty  uplift  of  her  shapely  head,  with  a 
gesture  of  utter  repugnance  for  the  man,  she  went 
past  him  down  the  stairs. 

Belknap,  with  that  inscrutable  smile  of  defiance,  de- 
rision, and  conscious  power  over  her,  still  upon  his 
lips  and  in  his  eyes,  stepped  deferentially  aside.  He 
bowed,  mockingly.  He  seemed  to  know,  without  her 
admitting  it  in  words,  that  he  had  won  out  in  that 
first  actual  passage  at  arms.  He  made  no  attempt 
to  detain  her. 

Thus  was  Katherine  Harvard's  wit  matched  against 
the  wit  of  Conrad  Belknap. 

Thus  was  the  battle  of  wits  begun. 

Thus  the  match — which  might  well  have  been  named : 
The  Crook  versus  Lady  Kate  of  the  police. 


CHAPTER  V 

ULDY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

KATHERINE  slept  but  little  that  night. 

She  was  torn  by  a  conflict  of  emotions,  and  chiefest 
among  them  all  was  the  passionate  longing  to  confide 
everything  to  her  husband,  which  she  knew  to  be  im- 
possible even  while  she  considered  it;  impossible  be- 
cause she  knew  what  he  would  do.  She  could  not  tell 
Bingham  about  her  brother,  now,  at  this  late  date, 
without  disclosing  her  reason  for  the  telling — without 
denouncing  Belknap;  and  if  she  did  that,  the  tempest 
would  be  let  loose,  the  long-stilled  Night  Wind  would 
be  unleashed. 

That  was  the  consequence  that  she  dreaded  greatly, 
although  almost  as  terrible  in  its  effect  would  be  dis- 
covery by  her  father  and  mother  that  Roderick's  body 
did  not  rest  in  the  grave  that  was  marked  by  his  name, 
at  their  Kentucky  home.  Years  had  come  and  gone 
since  that  grave  was  made;  and  now,  to  exhume  the 
living  from  it —  Such  a  circumstance  was  not  to 
be  thought  of. 

During  the  day  that  followed — it  was  Sunday — 
she  avoided  Belknap  as  much  as  possible  without  the 
appearance  of  it.  She  did  so  manage  that  she  was 
never  alone  with  him  for  an  instant.  With  twilight 
her  father  and  mother  came,  and  Bingham  went  with 
her  to  the  station  to  meet  them, 

It  happened  just  before  bedtime  that  Katherine, 
longing  for  a  moment  of  solitude,  stepped  through 

38 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND  39 

an  open  window  to  the  veranda  and  glided  noiselessly 
and  swiftly  down  the  side  steps  and  along  a  secluded 
pathway  toward  a  rustic  bench  that  was  half  hidden 
beneath  a  bower  of  climbing  crimson-rambler. 

She  passed  inside  of  it  before  she  discovered  that 
the  place  was  already  occupied;  that  Belknap,  whom 
she  supposed  had  gone  to  his  room,  was  there,  exactly 
as  if  he  were  awaiting  her.  Yet,  she  knew  differently, 
because  he  could  not  have  known  that  the  rose  bower 
was  a  favorite  retreat  of  hers. 

He  stood  up  and  bowed,  coolly  polite;  insolently 
sure  of  himself. 

"I  was  waiting  for  you,"  he  said. 

"But — "  she  began,  and  stopped. 

"Oh,  I  did  not  know  that  you  would  come  here, 
of  course."  He  smiled  provokingly.  "It  did  not  occur 
to  me  that  you  would  seek  me,  Mrs.  Harvard."  He 
was  mocking  her,  she  knew.  "I  did  think  that  you 
might  wish  for  a  moment  of  solitude,  so — I  came  here. 
You  see,  I  could  watch  you  through  the  window  from 
this  point  of  vantage — and — I  have  been  calling  you; 
mentally,  of  course.  Will  you  be  seated?" 

"No." 

He  produced  his  cigarettes  and  lighted  one  leisurely. 

"I  did  not  know  that  Senator  and  Mrs.  Maxwilton 
were  expected,"  he  said  when  he  had  extinguished  the 
match. 

Katherine  made  no  reply.  He  continued  as  if 
casually : 

"Their  coming  rather  strengthens  my  position, 
doesn't  it."  It  was  a  statement,  with  a  period,  not 
an  interrogation.  Again  she  was  silent. 

"They  do  not  suspect  that  a  certain  grave  in  Ken- 
tucky contains  the  bones  of  an  unknown,  and  not 
the  remains  of  him  whose  name  is  on  the  headstone," 


40  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

he  went  on.  "It  would  be  a  shock  to  them — such 
knowledge — would  it  not,  Lady  Kate?" 

She  started  backward  a  step,  white  to  the  lips. 

"You  dare — "  she  began,  and  stopped  because  of 
sheer  inability  to  speak  on,  so  greatly  was  she  out- 
raged by  his  insolent  familiarity.  Then,  controlling 
herself,  compelling  herself  to  speak  calmly,  she  con- 
tinued: "Let  me  advise  you  to  beware  lest  you  drive 
me  too  far,  Mr.  Belknap.  It  is  true  that  it  would 
be  a  shock  to — to  them — to  know  the  truth,  now,  so 
late,  but — do  not  deceive  yourself  into  the  notion  that 
I  have  refrained  from  exposing  you  solely  for  that 
reason.  There  is  another  one — even  a  more  impor- 
tant one.  You  do  not  know  it;  you  may  not  believe 
it  when  you  are  told.  It  is  this :  if  I  should  tell  Bing- 
ham  Harvard  of  the  things  that  you  have  said  and 
done  to  me,  he  would  pluck  you  from  your  hold  upon 
life  like  that" — she  reached  out  and  pulled  a  cluster 
of  roses  from  their  stems — "he  would  rend  you  and  tear 
you  apart  like  that" — she  crushed  the  roses  in  her 
fingers  and  tore  them  into  a  pulpy  mass — "and  when 
he  loosed  his  grip  upon  you,  as  I  loose  mine  now  upon 
these  rose  leaves,  you  would  be  as  they  are,  crushed, 
lifeless,  dead!  I  have  kept  silent  thus  far,  not  so 
much  to  spare  my  father  and  mother  the  knowledge 
that  you  threaten  to  disclose,  as  to  spare  your  worth- 
less, contemptible  life." 

Belknap  tossed  the  cigarette  from  him  into  the  path- 
way. He  bent  nearer  to  her,  smilingly  unmoved.  Not 
a  tone  of  his  voice  was  changed  when  he  spoke. 

"To  spare  my  life?"  he  questioned.  "Oh,  HO.  Say, 
rather,  to  keep  two  persons  instead  of  one,  outside  of 
a  prison  house.  To  save  me?  What  folly  to  suggest 
that !  But  to  save  Bing  Harvard  from  the  commission 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND  41 

of  a  crime.  Oh,  yes.  Quite  so.  And  you  will  continue 
to  do  that  very  thing,  believe  me!  That,  my  dear 
lady,  is  why  I  hold  the  whip  hand — and  it  is  why 
I  will  keep  on  holding  it  to  the  end;  because  you  are 
afraid,  if  you  speak,  that  your  husband  will  go  to  the 
electric  chair  as  a  murderer.  Did  you  expect  to 
frighten  me,  Lady  Kate?  Yes,  I  will  call  you  that  if  I 
choose.  Nonsense ;  utter  nonsense !  I  was  never  afraid 
in  my  life,  so  do  not  think  that  you  can  scare  me.  You 
can't." 

"You  are  right,"  she  returned  as  coolly  as  he  had 
spoken.  "I  have  kept  silent  only  to  spare  my  hus- 
band the  commission  of  a  crime.  I  could  look  upon 
your  features,  crushed,  and  dead,  with  unmixed  pleas- 
ure; and  if  you,  by  word  or  deed,  by  innuendo  or 
gesture,  betray  what  you  know  to  either  of  my  parents, 
I  will  loose  the  Night  Wind  upon  you,  no  matter  what 
the  consequences  may  be." 

She  turned  to  leave  him.  She  stepped  into  the 
moonlight  on  the  path.  There  she  halted,  and  turned, 
and  faced  him  again.  He  was  in  the  shadow  beneath 
the  rose-bower;  she  stood  in  the  light  outside  of  it — 
and  at  that  instant  Bingham  Harvard  from  the  ver- 
anda, where  he  had  gone  to  seek  her,  saw  her;  saw  her 
and  thought  nothing  of  it,  then. 

"Why  do  you  insist  upon  remaining  here?"  she  de- 
manded of  Belknap.  "What  do  you  want  at  My- 
quest?  Or  of  me?  Is  it  blackmail?  If  so,  name 
your " 

He  laughed   aloud,   gleefully,   interrupting  her. 

"My  price,  sweet  lady,"  he  said  mockingly,  "cannot 
be  paid  with  money.  I  seek  for  something  better — 
something  far  dearer  to  you  than  that — something, 
too,  that  I  will  compel  you  to  pay." 


42  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Week-end  gatherings  like  that  one  at  Myquest  some- 
times develops  into  established  house-parties. 

That  Sunday  evening  just  past  had  ended  by  a 
somewhat  general  understanding  that  several  of  the 
guests  were  to  stay  on  for  the  week,  and  the  week- 
end to  close  it.  Betty  Clancy  decided  that  she  would 
fill  out  the  week  with  Katherine,  and  so  Belle  Archer — 
whose  home  at  Ledgewood  was  not  ten  miles  away — 
elected  to  remain  also.  Her  husband,  Harry,  who 
never  had  known  more  strenuous  duties  than  clipping 
coupons,  was  just  as  willing  to  loaf  and  do  nothing 
at  Myquest  as  at  his  home,  so  he  stayed — after  he 
had  "persuaded"  their  own  guest,  Belknap,  to  do  like- 
wise. His  decision,  however,  was  not  known  until  Mon- 
day morning,  when  Julius  brought  the  big  car  to  the 
door  preparatory  to  driving  Harvard  and  Clancy  into 
the  city. 

Danforth  Demming  and  Horton  Sears  pretended 
to  a  consuming  desire  to  return  to  town,  and  Dem- 
ming went  so  far  as  to  order  out  his  roadster  (the  two 
had  gone  down  to  Myquest  together  in  it),  but  as 
neither  one  was  in  business,  and  could  be  as  contented 
in  one  place  as  another,  both  were  easily  persuaded 
to  stay.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Katherine  very  greatly 
preferred  that  they  should  remain,  because — well, 
there  might  still  be  occasion  for  her  to  denounce  Bel- 
knap  to  all  four  of  the  men  whom  he  had  cheated 
at  cards. 

There  were  several  others  —  "just  girls,"  Tom 
Clancy  would  have  called  them — who  were  induced 
to  stay  on,  for  there  were  tennis,  and  golf,  and  motor- 
ing, and  horseback  riding  to  be  indulged,  and  bridge 
to  be  played — and  the  possibility  of  harmless  and 
pleasing  flirtatious  interludes  with  Sears  and  Dem- 
ming, and  "that  handsome  and  fascinating  Mr.  Conrad 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND  43 

Belknap,"  whose  covert  references  to  mines  and 
ranches  in  Arizona,  and  whose  frank,  but  evidently 
insincere  declarations  that  he  was  a  confirmed  bach- 
elor, were  not  the  least  of  his  attractions. 

And  Katherine  permitted  him  to  stay.  She  did  not 
denounce  him.  For  the  time  being,  at  least,  he  had 
conquered. 

She  had  not  forgotten  what  she  had  heard  over  the 
telephone,  nor  the  short  conversation  that  followed 
it  between  her  and  the  woman  accomplice.  Katherine 
intended,  that  very  night — that  Monday  at  midnight — 
to  take  advantage  of  the  permission  that  had  been 
given  her,  to  call  up  Ganesvoort  54320. 

Also,  she  had  watched  for  that  letter  that  Belknap 
had  promised  to  write  and  post  to  the  woman;  she 
had  even  searched  the  mail-bag  for  it  late  Sunday 
night,  intending,  if  she  found  it,  to — she  did  not  know 
quite  what  she  would  have  done  in  that  case. 

But  she  did  not  find  it,  and  so  was  spared  a  temp- 
tation to  commit  an  act  which,  according  to  police- 
headquarters  ethics,  would  have  been  entirely  justi- 
fiable. 

However,  she  had  no  doubt  that  Belknap  had  written 
it,  and  sent  it — by  one  of  the  grooms,  possibly,  or 
he  had  carried  it  himself  across  the  golf-links  to  the 
post-office  when  he  had  walked  away  alone  late  Sunday 
afternoon. 

Throughout  the  day,  Monday,  Katherine  devoted 
herself  to  her  father  and  mother;  and  Belknap,  oblig- 
ingly or  with  intention,  kept  himself  aloof  from  her. 

She  knew  that  he,  with  the  three  other  men  who  had 
stayed  on  for  the  week — Demming,  Sears,  and  Arch- 
er— played  bridge  together  all  of  Monday  after- 
noon in  the  billiard-room,  but  she  consoled  herself  with 
the  thought  that  if  they  were  mere  lambs  to  be  sheared 


44  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

by  the  first  card-sharper  who  appeared,  they  not  only 
deserved  the  operation,  but  each  one  could  well  afford 
his  losses. 

Harvard  and  Clancy  returned  shortly  after  five,  and 
the  evening  that  followed  was  entirely  uneventful,  al- 
though Katherine  could  not  overcome  the  feeling  of 
impending  disaster.  To  her  the  very  atmosphere 
seemed  to  be  charged  with  calamity;  every  hour  was 
full  of  menacing  portentousness. 

During  the  evening  Belknap  devoted  himself  first 
to  one  and  then  another  of  the  married  and  unmarried 
women  of  the  party;  at  something  after  eleven  o'clock 
all  of  the  guests  retired  to  their  respective  rooms,  and 
at  a  quarter  to  twelve  she  and  Harvard  sought  their 
own  double  suite  in  the  easterly  wing  of  their  home. 

Katherine  stood  with  her  husband  for  a  moment  in 
his  dressing-room,  with  her  hands  resting  gently  upon 
his  arms.  She  was  looking  into  his  eyes,  longing  to 
uncover,  to  his  great  and  indulgent  devotion  to  her, 
everything  that  troubled  her. 

She  passionately  wanted  to  throw  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  to  force  him  down  upon  a  chair,  to  sit  on 
his  knee,  and  to  confide  all  her  perplexities  to  him; 
but — she  was  afraid.  She  dared  not  do  it. 

Gazing  down  upon  her,  he  saw  the  vague  shad- 
ows— or  sensed  them;  and  he  folded  her  into  his  em- 
brace, and  held  her  so  for  a  long  minute. 

"What  is  it,  sweetheart?"  he  asked  softly.  "What 
is  troubling  you?" 

Instantly  she  was  alert  again,  and  pulled  herself 
slowly  out  of  his  embrace,  smiled  into  his  eyes,  kissed 
his  lips  gently,  and  replied: 

"I  am  tired,  I  suppose;  that  is  all,  dear.  I  will  go 
to  my  room,  and  to  bed." 

So  they  said  good  night  and  parted. 


CHAPTER  VI 

GANESVOORT    54320 

IN  her  own  room,  with  the  door  closed,  she  at  once 
dismissed  the  maid  who  awaited  her,  glanced  at  the 
little  clock,  and  saw  that  it  was  five  minutes  to  mid- 
night ;  and  composed  herself  to  wait  five  minutes  more 
before  she  would  ask  the  telephone  operator  to  con- 
nect her  with  Ganesvoort  54320. 

But  she  seated  herself  beside  the  instrument,  and 
before  one  of  the  five  minutes  had  elapsed  she  lifted 
the  receiver  from  the  hook,  very,  very  softly — not 
because  she  had  any  idea  that  the  extension  to  Bing- 
ham's  den  might  be  in  use,  but  solely  for  the  reason 
that  she  was  conscious  of  doing  something  stealthily. 

Instantly  she  was  all  alertness,  for  at  once  she  heard 
the  voice  of  Conrad  Belknap. 

The  fact  told  her  much  upon  the  instant,  even  while 
she  listened  intently  to  what  was  being  said:  it  told 
her  that  Belknap  had  made  the  discovery  that  a  direct 
wire  from  the  telephone  exchange,  not  connected  with 
the  switchboard  in  the  butler's  quarters,  led  into  Har- 
vard's private  library,  or  den,  and  that  the  man  had 
gone  to  it  from  his  own  room  after  he  supposed  that 
all  others  in  the  house  had  retired,  to  make  use  of  it — 
and  what  she  heard  presently  confirmed  that  assump- 
tion; as  also  the  fact  that  Belknap  had  no  suspicion 
that  her  own  telephone  was  likewise  on  that  direct  wire. 

She  was  aware,  too,  that  she  was  to  hear  all  that 
Belknap  was  to  say  to  the  unknown,  as  well  as  the 

45 


46  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

woman's  replies,  for  the  first  words  that  came  to 
her  in  Belknap's  voice  were: 

"...  been  here  for  the  last  fifteen  minutes,  but  I 
waited,  to  be  sure  that  you  were  there  to  answer  me." 

"Well?"  the  voice  of  the  woman  answered,  and  there 
was  that  same  quality  of  repulsion,  dislike,  and  fear 
in  it  that  Katherine  had  detected  Saturday  evening. 
"What  do  you  want  to  say?" 

"You  received  my  letter?" 

"Yes.  Wait  a  moment.  Do  you  think  you  are  wise 
to  use  that  telephone?  When  you  did  so,  Saturday, 
there  was  a  crossed  wire  from  another  house  near 
there,  and — well,  I  could  hear  a  woman's  voice  upon  it 
after  you  hung  up." 

"Crossed  wires  happen  sometimes,  but  not  as  a 
rule.  It  is  late  now;  everybody  here  is  in  bed.  This 
'phone  is  not  connected  with  the  switchboard  down- 
stairs ;  it  is  a  direct  wire  from  the  exchange.  Any- 
how, there  is  nothing  much  to  be  said — nothing  that 
anybody  but  ourselves  could  understand.  Have  you 
made  your  arrangements  to  carry  out  the  directions 
in  my  letter?" 

"Yes." 

"Well?" 

"There  is  nothing  more  to  be  said  about  it,  is  there, 
save  that  you  may  look  for  me  at  the  appointed  time? 
I  will  not  disappoint  you." 

Katherine  supposed  that  that  would  be  all,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  returning  the  receiver  to  its  switch, 
when  the  woman  spoke  again  after  Belknap  had  agreed 
with  her  that  nothing  more  need  be  said. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  she  asked  him.  "Are  you  quite 
positive  about  that  direct  wire?" 

"Yes ;  but  all  the  same  we  need  not  discuss  things 
too  plainly,"  he  replied. 


47 

"I  know.  It  isn't  that;  it's  this:  I  want  you  to 
come  into  the  city  to  see  me  before  I  go  there.  You 
know  why.  There  are  some  questions  that  I  wish  to 
ask.  I  want  to  know — certain  things  that  I  cannot 
ask  you  over  a  telephone-wire." 

He  replied  to  her  angrily:  "What  nonsense  is 

She  interrupted  him. 

"It  isn't  nonsense,  C.  B.,"  she  said  coldly,  and  with 
an  added  ring  of  hardness  in  her  voice  that  rendered 
it  almost  unrecognizable.  "You  may  as  well  under- 
stand that  I  am  not  going  to  thrust  my  head  into  a 
lion's  jaws,  as  you  want  me  to  do,  until  I  am  well 
assured  that  they  won't  close  up  on  me,  and  that 
you  won't  be  the  one  to  press  the  spring  that  does 
the  closing.  Don't  interrupt  me!  You're  quite  cap- 
able of  doing  that  very  thing,  provided  that  you  are 
reasonably  sure  of  not  getting  bitten  yourself.  So — 
you  see — and  you  thoroughly  understand,  too — that 
I  won't  make  a  move  or  do  a  thing  about  what  you 
want  done,  until  I  am  convinced  on  that  point,  and 
you  have  got  to  see  me  first,  to  convince  me." 

"Look  here,  Berta " 

"None  of  that,  C.  B.  I  know  you,  going  and  com- 
ing, across  from  both  sides,  and  down  the  middle. 
You  are  just  a  little  bit  afraid  of  me,  C.  B.,  although, 
I  reckon  that  I'm  about  the  only  thing  in  the  world 
that  you  do  fear.  You'd  like  nothing  better  than  to 
be  jolly  well  rid  of  me,  and  you  know  it;  so — come 
across." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that — 'come  across'?" 

"I  mean  that  you'd  better  blow  into  town  between 
now  and  Saturday,  and  look  me  up,  if  you  want  me 
to  do  my  part.  That's  all,  Good-by." 

"Wait —  Look  here,  Berta,  can't  you  wait  till  you 
get  here?  I  will " 


48  LADir  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Good-by,  C.  B.  I  don't  think  you'd  best  do  any 
more  telephoning  from  that  house  to  me.  Goo — 

"Wait,  I  tell  you!" 

"I  won't  wait.  I  have  said  my  say.  I'm  through. 
Good-by — and  if  you  don't  show  up  in  town  between 
now  and  Saturday,  good  NIGHT." 

The  woman  hung  up ;  and  after  a  moment,  evidently 
of  indecision  on  Belknap's  part  about  asking  for  a  re- 
newal of  the  connection,  Katherine  knew  he  had  re- 
turned the  receiver  to  its  hook. 

She  replaced  her  own,  then  stole  to  the  door,  opened 
it  softly,  and  only  a  very  little,  and  waited,  for  she 
knew  that  Belknap,  in  returning  to  his  room,  must 
pass  a  point  at  the  end  of  the  corridor  where  she  would 
be  able  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  him. 

Presently  she  saw  him,  and  she  closed  her  door  with 
a  sigh  of  relief,  and  locked  it.  Then  she  went  softly 
into  her  dressing-room,  and  listened  at  the  door  to 
Bingham's  suite  to  assure  herself  that  he  had  gone 
to  bed.  Being  satisfied,  she  went  back  to  the  tele- 
phone, hesitated  for  a  time  to  determine  exactly  her 
course  of  procedure,  and  asked  for  the  Ganesvoort 
connection. 

The  response  came  quickly. 

"Yes?"  the  sweetly  melodious  voice  that  had  so 
charmed  her  the  first  time  she  heard  it,  answered,  and, 
without  pause,  added:  "Is  it  my  young  friend  of 
Saturday  evening — the  young  woman  who  seemed  to 
be  in  trouble?" 

"Of  course  it  is,"  Katherine  replied  in  the  most  girl- 
ish manner  she  could  assume.  "I  have  been  on  pins 
and  needles  waiting  for  midnight,  to  call  you  up. 
And  I  can't  tell  you  how  kind  you  are  to  let  me  do  it." 

"Have  you,  indeed?  It  is  long  past  midnight  now; 
half  an  hour,  at  least." 


GANESVOORT  54320  49 

"Really?     I  wonder  if  my  clock  is  slow." 

"Very  likely — if  you  have  been  watching  it  impa- 
tiently." 

"You  can't  think,  madam,  how  kind  it  is  of  you  to 
let  me  talk  to  you ;  and — do  you  know  that  your  voice 
is  just  beautiful?  It  makes  me  simply  crazy  to  know 
you.  Won't  you  please  tell  me  your  name,  and  where 
you  live,  and  let  me  go  to  see  you  the  next  time  I  am 
permitted  to  go  to  the  city?" 

A  low  ripple  of  laughter  sounded  through  the  tele- 
phone. 

"Dear  me,  what  a  lot  of  questions,"  the  woman  said. 
"Have  you  quite  forgotten  why  I  gave  you  permission 
to  telephone  to  me?  It  was  not  to  ask  questions, 
surely." 

"No,  no,"  Katherine  replied  hastily.  "Please  for- 
give me." 

"You  said  that  you  were  distressed,  and  in  trouble, 

and  that  I  could  help  you;  but,  my  dear You 

are  quite  young,  are  you  not?  I  have  assumed  that 
much  about  you." 

"Y-yes,"  was  the  faltering  response;  purposely  fal- 
tering. Then:  "Perhaps  you  are  young,  too.  Your 
voice  makes  me  think  that  you  are,  although  I  don't 
know  whether  you  are  seventeen  or  seventy." 

"I  suspect  that  you  are  the  one  who  is  seventeen, 
my  dear.  But  I?  I  am  very,  very  old.  I  am  ages 
— epochs — cycles  old.  I  have  attained  the  great  age 
of  twenty-seven.  It  is  wonderful,  isn't  it?  Just  to 
think  of  it!  To  have  lived  a  thousand  years  in  twen- 
ty-seven." The  ring  of  utter  bitterness  in  the  un- 
known woman's  voice  when  she  said  that,  was  unmis- 
takable. But  she  went  on  quickly:  "Tell  me  about 
your  troubles,  and  how  I  can  help  you." 


50  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Katherine  had  prepared  herself  for  that  question, 
and  was  ready  with  her  reply. 

"You  see,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  was  probably  more 
frightened  than  anything  else.  When  I  spoke  to  you 
Saturday  evening,  I  was  locked  in  my  room,  and  badly 
frightened,  though  the  word  'rattled'  expresses  it  bet- 
ter. I  wanted  to  ask  somebody  to  help  me,  only  I 
did  not  know  whom  to  ask.  Why,  I  even  thought  of 
the  police — which  was  silly,  of  course.  Then,  when  I 
took  up  the  receiver,  I  heard  your  voice — you  were 
saying  'Good-by*  to  some  one,  and  it  attracted  me. 
You  know  the  rest." 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  your  troubles  are  past, 
and  that  you  no  longer  have  need  of  me?"  the  woman's 
voice  asked,  with  another  touch  of  bitterness — perhaps 
of  regret — in  it. 

"Oh,  it  was  all  about  a  man  who  insists  upon  impos- 
ing himself  on  me — and — and — I  really  don't  suppose 
it  amounted  to  half  as  much  as  I  feared  it  did.  But, 
please,  won't  you  tell  me  your  name?  Just  so  that  I 
may  feel  as  if  I  knew  you,  really?" 

"My  name?  Will  Roberta  suffice?  It  is  my  first 
name.  What  is  yours,  my  dear?" 

"My  father  and  mother  and  brother,  and  my  girl 
and  boy  friends  used  to  call  me  Kitten.  Do  you  like 
that?" 

"It  doubtless  fits  you  perfectly.  Mine  used  to  call 
me  Bobby." 

"Won't  you  tell  me  your  last  name,  and  where  you 
live,  and  let  me  write  to  you?"  Katherine  insisted. 

"No — -not  now — I  will  think  about  it.  Perhaps 

some  day "  She  stopped  speaking,  and  Katherine 

said: 

"Perhaps  you  will  consent  to  write  to  me  first.  I 
wish  you  would.  Send  it  to  Greendale,  Long  Island 


GANESVOORT  54320  51 

— the  last  name  is  Maxwell.  I  will  get  it  from  the 
post-office  myself,  and  I  will  look  for  a  letter  from  you 
every  day  until  I  get  one — and  you  must  tell  me  how 
to  answer,  won't  you?  And " 

"There,  there,  Miss  Kitten.  I  must  go.  Good- 
night." 

Click  went  the  instrument. 

Katherine  kept  the  receiver  at  her  ear,  listening. 
After  an  interval  she  began  to  move  the  switch  slowly 
down  and  up ;  and  then : 

"Central,"  she  said,  when  the  response  came,  "this 
is  Mrs.  Harvard,  of  Myquest,  speaking.  Please  ask 
the  other  exchange  for  the  street  address  of  the  tele- 
phone with  which  I  was  just  now  connected.  I  neglected 
to  take  it  down.  Yes ;  it  was  Ganesvoort  54320." 

Thus  presently  Katherine  was  in  possession  of  the 
address  of  the  woman  accomplice  of  Conrad  Belknap 
— as  she  believed. 

It  had  not  occurred  to  her  that  "the  voice"  might 
not  live  at  that  address. 


CHAPTER  VII 

BEWARE   OF   THE   STRANGE* 

Two  items  stood  out  prominently  visualized  in 
Katherine's  thoughts  while  she  prepared  for  bed:  One 
was  that  Belknap  intended  to  stay  on  at  Myquest  in- 
definitely, unless  a  means  could  be  found  to  drive  him 
away;  the  other  was  that  the  woman  accomplice — she 
of  the  sweetly  melodious  voice  whose  given  name  was 
Roberta — was  to  appear  at  Myquest  presently  under 
some  guise  which  would  enable  her  to  be  properly  re- 
ceived, and  which,  it  would  appear,  had  already  been 
arranged.  What  form  that  guise,  impersonation, 
character,  or  pretense  might  take  could  not  be  fore- 
seen. 

Meanwhile  Bingham  Harvard — once  alias  the  Night 
Wind — had  not  gone  to  sleep  immediately  after  Kath- 
erine's departure  to  her  own  room. 

He  went  to  bed  at  once,  to  be  sure,  but  he  was  wake- 
ful without  being  restless — and  somewhat  concerned 
and  irritated — without  being  in  the  least  troubled — 
because  of  an  annoying  incident  of  the  preceding  day. 

He  had  received  an  anonymous  communication  of 
nine  typewritten  words :  "Beware  of  the  stranger  that 
is  within  thy  gates."  It  had  been  mailed  at  the  gen- 
eral post-office  in  Eighth  Avenue  at  noon  that  Mon- 
day. The  envelope  and  single  sheet  of  paper  had 
borne  the  imprint  of  one  of  the  leading  hotels  of  the 
city,  and  any  person  wandering  through  its  corridors 
might  have  used  the  hotel  stationery;  but  he  had  to 

52 


BEWARE  OF  THE  STRANGER  53 

acknowledge  to  himself  at  once  that  the  typewriter 
that  had  been  used  for  conveying  the  message  had 
quite  evidently  been  sought  for  elsewhere. 

He  had  been  in  bed  a  short  time  when  he  arose  for 
a  drink  of  water.  In  returning  he  paused  for  an  in- 
stant at  Katherine's  door — and  he  knew  at  once  that 
she  was  using  the  telephone,  although  he  caught  no 
word  of  what  was  said,  and  did  not  think  of  attempt- 
ing to  hear. 

However,  when  he  returned  to  his  bed  he  found — 
more  than  ever  to  his  intense  annoyance — that  he  was 
wilfully  reminded  of  several  incidents  that  had  occurred 
since  there  had  been  a  stranger  within  his  gates,  so  to 
speak. 

There  was  the  incident  of  the  summer-house,  when 
there  had  been  talk  of  Belknap's  immediate  departure 
Saturday  night — and  Belknap's  attitude  and  remarks 
on  the  subject — and  Katherine's  somewhat  remarkable 
insistence  upon  the  importance  of  his  going.  Never- 
theless he  had  remained. 

There  was  Katherine's  avoidance  of  Belknap 
throughout  the  day,  Sunday — although  Bingham  in- 
sisted to  himself  that  that  was  entirely  his  own  imag- 
ining ;  yet  the  fact  remained  that  he  had  "imagined"  it. 

There  was  Tom  Clancy's  covert  though  constant  at- 
titude of  watching  Belknap  as  if  he  were  studying  the 
man — and  again  Bing  attributed  the  thought  of  it  to 
his  own  imagination. 

There  was  the  double  episode  of  the  rosebower:  the 
still  burning  cigarette  that  he  had  seen  tossed  from  it — 
Katherine's  appearance,  coming  from  it  a  moment  or 
two  later — her  strained  and  somewhat  tense  attitude 
when  she  did  it,  and  her  manner  of  turning  about  when 
in  the  pathway,  to  add  to  something  that  she  had  been 
saying.  Harvard  knew  Katherine's  every  gesture  and 


54  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

mannerism  as  intimately  as  one  knows  the  way  to  one's 
own  mouth  with  a  fork  or  spoon;  and  he  had  seen  de- 
fiance, dislike,  and  impotent  rebellion  in  her  manner 
then — and  he  knew  mighty  well  that  his  imagination 
had  played  no  part  in  that  opinion. 

There  was  the  shadow  that  he  had  felt,  rather  than 
seen,  hovering  over  her  while  she  was  bidding  him  good 
night,  and  the  intuitive  belief  that  had  been  in  his  mind 
at  the  time,  that  she  was  on  the  point  of  confiding 
something  to  him,  and  had  decided  not  to. 

Then,  after  she  had  gone  to  her  room  with  the  ex- 
pressed determination  of  retiring  at  once,  there  was 
the  fact  that  more  than  half  an  hour  later  she  was  at 
the  telephone  in  conversation  with  somebody. 

The  following  morning,  while  he  and  Tom  Clancy 
were  riding  into  town  together,  Harvard  inquired  of 
his  friend,  as  if  casually: 

"How  do  you  like  Belknap?  I  don't  seem  to  have 
had  a  chance  to  get  acquainted  with  him  yet." 

"Do  you  want  the  answer  straight  from  the  shoulder, 
Bing,  without  even  so  much  as  an  honest  fool-reason 
to  back  it  up?"  Tom  asked  bluntly;  and  added,  before 
Harvard  could  reply  to  the  question :  "I  don't  like  him 
a  little  bit.  I  think  he's  a  rotter,  from  Rottersville ; 
and  that,  if  he  stays  on  at  Myquest — oh,  it's  just  a 
case  of  'I  do  not  like  you,  Dr.  Fell,  the  reason  why  I 
cannot  tell.'  " 

"You  must  have  some  reason  for  such  an  emphatic 
opinion,  Tom." 

"Huh !  I  don't  like  the  shape  of  his  nose,  the  color 
of  his  hair,  the  cut  of  his  coat,  the  size  shoe  he  wears, 
and  the  way  he  walks.  In  other  words,  I  don't  like  the 
soil  he  stands  on,  and  I'd  like  to  pick  a  fight  with  him 
and  have  it  out." 

Harvard  laughed  aloud,  and  changed  the  subject. 


BEWARE  OF  THE  STRANGER  55 

There  was  never  any  accounting  for  Tom  Clancy's 
likes  and  dislikes,  and  they  were  as  often  prejudiced  as 
otherwise,  so  far  as  the  reason  for  them  was  con- 
cerned. 

Immediately  after  luncheon  that  day  Katherine  in- 
vited Betty  to  a  ride  with  her  in  her  own  roadster, 
which  she  always  drove  herself,  and,  telling  her  other 
guests  that  she  would  leave  them  to  their  own  devices 
for  an  hour  or  two  while  she  and  Mrs.  Clancy  tore  a 
hole  in  the  atmosphere,  she  drove  her  car  directly  to 
the  city. 

Betty  always  had  shopping  to  do.  Tom's  ample 
bank  account  did  not  prevent  her  from  being  an  invet- 
erate bargain-hunter,  and  Katherine  very  easily  found 
the  means  to  leave  her  friend  long  enough  to  drive  past 
the  address  that  the  telephone  operator  had  given  her 
the  preceding  night. 

She  sought  merely  to  locate  it,  because  it  happened 
to  be  in  a  street  with  which  she  was  unfamiliar — a 
street  in  the  Greenwich  Village  section. 

She  knew  the  fringes  of  that  neighborhood  well 
enough,  for  she  had,  in  the  police  days,  lived  in  West 
Eleventh  Street  for  a  time;  but  the  mazes  of  Green- 
wich Village — and  to  a  stranger  the  locality  is  some- 
thing of  a  labyrinth — were  unknown  to  her. 

She  found  the  address  readily  enough,  and  drove  on 
past  it  without  stopping,  for  she  was  intensely  disap- 
pointed, and  not  a  little  disgusted.  It  was  plain  enough 
that  "Roberta"  did  not  live  there — although  it  was 
not  so  plain  how  the  woman  could  make  use  of  a  tele- 
phone from  that  address  at  midnight  and  after. 

The  place  was  a  combination  stationery,  toy,  and 
cigar  store  and  news-stand,  and,  moreover,  it  was  only 
one  story  high,  being  a  makeshift  little  building  thrust 
in  between  two  taller  ones. 


56  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Katherine  stopped  her  car  at  the  next  corner,  got 
down,  and  walked  slowly  back  to  the  address. 

She  occupied  a  moment  or  two  in  peering  in  at  the 
window  to  select  something  to  purchase,  and  then  went 
inside.  She  saw  at  once  that  the  building  was  as  shal- 
low as  it  was  low,  that  there  was  only  a  very  small  room 
at  the  rear  into  which  the  doorway  was  wide  open,  and 
that  the  frowsy-headed  woman  with  the  cracked  and 
beery  voice,  who  waited  upon  her,  quite  evidently  cooked 
and  ate  and  slept  in  the  tiny  quarters.  But  there  was 
a  telephone  of  the  drop-in-a-nickel  type  im  the  store, 
and  its  number  was  the  one  she  had  sought. 

Katherine,  having  returned  to  her  car,  summed  up 
the  incident  thus : 

"Roberta  lives  in  the  neighborhood.  She  fees  that 
old  woman  liberally  for  the  use  of  the  telephone,  and 
she  either  carries  a  key  to  the  store  or  rouses  the  woman 
to  admit  her  whenever  it  pleases  her  to  go  there.  The 
only  way  to  trace  her  by  that  means  would  be  to 
watch  and  wait  just  before  midnight — which  isn't  worth 
while,  since  Roberta  is  due  to  arrive  at  Myquest  short- 
ly; only,  if  I  were  back  at  headquarters,  I  think  that 
I  would  do  it  just  the  same.  I  wonder,"  she  mused 
silently  just  before  she  came  to  a  stop  in  front  of  the 
store  where  she  had  left  Betty,  "if  it  would  not  be  a 
good  idea  to  send  for  Rodney  Rushton  and  ask  him 
to  help  me.  He  could  trace  that  woman  for  me;  he 
could  find  out  all  about  Conrad  Belknap,  and  he 

Betty  appeared  on  the  scene  and  interrupted  her 
train  of  thought. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   BEAUTIFUL   PIANISTE 

CARDS?  Oh,  yes,  every  day — and  sometimes  the 
greater  part  of  one — with  the  billiard-room  for  scen- 
ery, bridge  for  the  vehicle,  and  Archer,  Sears,  and 
Demming  for  the  goats. 

Katherine  chose  to  ignore  the  fact  of  the  gambling — 
which  she  perfectly  well  knew  took  place — and  left  the 
players  severely  alone.  She  noticed  that  always  the 
games  were  brought  to  a  conclusion  before  the  hour 
of  Harvard's  and  Clancy's  arrival  from  business  in  the 
city. 

The  four  concerned  in  it  never  spoke  of  their  play, 
save  on  the  rare  occasions  when  Belknap  had  lost 
(presumably  only  a  small  percentage  of  what  he  had 
theretofore  gained),  when,  as  a  rule,  they  twitted  him 
more  or  less,  with  some  small  indications  of  tempo- 
rary exultation.  It  was  plain  to  Katherine,  however, 
that  the  man  was  a  loser  only  when  he  deemed  it  to  be 
politic. 

Throughout  the  days  and  evenings  that  followed 
upon  the  (to  Katherine)  memorable  Sunday  and  Mon- 
day, Belknap  was  consistently  considerate  of  every- 
body, gracious  to  all,  and — he  played  the  gentleman 
as  thoroughly  well  as  he  played  cards,  which  is  high 
praise. 

It  was  Wednesday  evening  when  an  incident  hap- 
pened which,  although  carefully  planned  by  its  insti- 
gators, had  every  earmark  of  casuality.  A  Mme.  Sav- 

57 


58  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

age  arrived  at  Myquest.  She  possessed  the  several 
qualifications  for  a  welcome  at  Harvard's  home,  of 
being  a  large  stockholder  in  his  bank,  a  lifelong  friend 
of  the  former  president  of  it,  Chester,  who  was  the 
only  father  that  Bing  had  ever  known,  and  she  was 
one  of  those  rare  and  lovable  old  ladies  whose  thought 
remains  as  young  as  ever  it  was,  at  eighty. 

She  came,  she  saw,  and  was  seen,  and  before  the  eve- 
ning was  finished  she  conquered — in  the  fact  that  she 
succeeded  in  persuading  Katherine  to  engage  for  the 
approaching  week-end,  to  play  for  them,  the  services  of 
one  whom  she  described  as  being  the  most  wonderful 
pianiste  she  had  ever  heard  perform.  Katherine  was 
not  given  to  employing  hired  talent  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  her  guests,  but  when  there  was  a  chorus  of 
approval  of  the  idea  from  one  group — of  which  Bel- 
knap,  by  the  way,  was  the  center — and  when  Bingham 
suggested,  "Why  not  have  her  down,  Katherine?"  she 
assented. 

"My  goodness,  no,"  Mme.  Savage  said  in  reply  to  a 
question,  "I  have  never  met  her  personally.  I  have 
heard  her  play  three  or  four  times — maybe  not  so 
many — but  I  never  saw  her  nearer  than  across  a  crowd- 
ed room ;  and  my  eyesight  isn't  as  good  as  it  was  once. 
Just  the  same  I  have  been  told  that  she  is  very  beautiful 
— the  Spanish  type,  you  know — and — er — all  that  sort 
of  thing.  She  does  play  magnificently,  believe  me !  Do 
have  her  down,  Katherine,  for  a  change,  if  you  want 
entertainment;  she  isn't  expensive,  so  I've  been  in- 
formed. You  see,  she  probably  has  been  told  that  I 
have  heard  her  play,  for  she  wrote  to  me — let  me  see, 
last  week  it  was — and  asked  me  if  I  would  recommend 
her  to  my  friends  as  an  entertainer;  and  I  told  my 
secretary  to  send  her  word  that  of  course  I  would — 
so — well — you  see" — the  old  lady  turned  toward  Har- 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  PIANISTE  59 

vard — "you  can  charge  it  to  me,  Bing  Harvard,  if  you 
don't  like  her.  Of  course  I've  got  her  address;  I  made 
a  note  of  it  on  my  tablets  before  I  started.  Here  it  is 
now — Senorita  Cervantez,  care  of  the  Bannister  En- 
tertainment Bureau,  Metropolitan  Building.  There 
you  are,  folks." 

Katherine  sent  off  a  letter  that  night,  requesting  the 
services  of  the  senorita  from  Friday  until  Monday,  un- 
less she  was  otherwise  engy-ged. 

Friday,  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  she  arrived — two 
hours  before  she  was  expected. 

The  consequence  of  that  fact  was  that  nobody  met 
her  at  the  Greendale  station,  and,  whether  she  made  in- 
quiries and  was  directed  how  to  find  Myquest,  or  did 
not,  the  fact  remained  that  she  walked  the  distance 
of  a  little  more  than  a  mile  across  the  golf-links,  and 
so  arrived  unheralded  and  unannounced. 

She  approached  the  house  by  way  of  the  tennis- 
courts,  where  some  of  the  ladies  were  playing  a  four- 
some, and  where  Katherine  was  seated  beside  Betty, 
looking  on. 

It  was  Katherine  who  saw  her  first,  and  at  once 
guessed  her  identity.  Indeed,  there  could  have  been  no 
mistaking  the  Spanish  type  of  beauty  that  was  hers, 
and  to  which  Mme.  Savage  had  referred. 

She  walked  moderately  fast,  with  a  graceful,  swing- 
ing gait  (daintily,  like  a  gazelle,  Tom  Clancy  said 
afterward),  like  one  who  had  spent  much  time  in  the 
open  and  among  the  wilds,  who  had  scaled  mountains, 
perhaps. 

Katherine  left  her  chair  and  hurried  to  meet  the 
senorita,  with  both  hands  outstretched  in  greeting, 
and  she  exclaimed,  while  they  were  yet  some  distance 
apart: 

"It  is  Senorita  Cervantez,  isn't  it?     I  am  so  sorry 


60  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

that  nobody  was  at  the  station  to  meet  you,  but  really, 
I  understand  that  you  were  to  arrive  at  four,  and  you 
must  have  come  on  the  one-twenty." 

Katherine  saw  an  expression  of  utter  amazement 
flashed  into  the  eyes  of  Senorita  Cervantez ;  and  it  was 
only  a  flash,  being  gone  again  with  the  instant  of  its 
appearance,  like  the  distant  lightning  of  a  summer 
night.  Katherine  was  not  even  sure  that  it  had  ex- 
pressed amazement ;  it  might  have  been — anything. 

And  then  Katherine  met  with  a  surprise;  an  aston- 
ishing one. 

Senorita  Cervantez  did  not  reply. 

She  smiled — and  it  was  a  beautiful  smile  that  lighted 
up  her  countenance  wonderfully — thus  indicating  that 
she  had  perfectly  understood  all  that  Katherine  had 
said.  A  quick  and  emphatic  nod  of  her  perfectly  poised 
head  accompanied  the  smile.  The  fingers  of  her  left 
hand,  exquisitely  gloved,  were  lifted  to  her  lips,  and 
touched  them,  while  she  shook  her  head  slowly,  still 
smiling ;  and  then,  for  a  brief  instant,  she  accepted  both 
of  Katherine's  extended  hands. 

But  she  dropped  them  at  once,  and  bent  forward 
over  the  small  black  satchel  she  had  been  carrying, 
which  she  had  put  down  as  Katherine  approached  her. 

She  opened  it,  she  thrust  a  hand  inside,  into  a  pocket 
of  it,  and  brought  forth  a  fountain  pen  and  a  small 
pad  of  paper;  and  then,  to  Katherine's  utter  amaze- 
ment— even  to  her  consternation  and  dismay — the 
senorita  began  to  write  upon  it. 

The  tennis  game  was  momentarily  discontinued.  The 
players  were  grouped  together,  close  to  the  net.  Betty 
left  her  chair  and  moved  slowly  toward  Katherine  and 
the  new  arrival — and  the  senorita,  with  never  a  word 
or  a  lifting  of  her  great,  dark  eyes,  continued  to  write 
while  Katherine  awaited  the  denouement,  whatever  it 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  PIANISTE  61 

was  to  be,  with  many  emotions.     When  the  topmost 
sheet  of  the  pad  had  been  half  filled  with  written  words, 
the  senorita  lifted  a  pair  of  smiling  eyes  and  passed 
it  to  her  bewildered  hostess. 
It  read  as  follows: 

I  regret  that  I  cannot  speak  these  words  to  acknowledge  your 
gracious  welcome.  Once  I  thought  I  was  to  be  a  great  singer, 
but  on  the  eve  of  success  my  voice  was  taken  from  me  utterly. 
Sometimes — not  always — it  is  possible  for  me  to  converse  in  a 
faint  whisper,  although  it  is  an  effort  to  do  so.  I  hear  perfectly. 
Forgive  me,  and  please  be  patient.  My  fingers  shall  talk  to  you, 
in  this  manner,  and — still  better  upon  the  keys  of  a  piano. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry !"  Katherine  exclaimed,  and  with 
an  impulse  she  did  not  seek  to  control  she  put  her 
hands  upon  the  stranger's  shoulders  and  kissed  her  on 
the  cheek — and  it  was  a  glowing,  olive-and-rose-tinted 
cheek  that  anybody  might  have  been  glad  to  kiss. 

Katherine,  by  a  gesture,  summoned  the  others  around 
her.  She  presented  the  senorita.  She  explained  the 
situation,  almost  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  for  she  felt  in- 
stantly and  mysteriously  drawn  to  the  woman  who  was 
so  strangely  bereft  of  the  power  of  speech.  The  senor- 
ita was  undoubtedly  beautiful,  with  face  and  features 
and  glowing  eyes  as  young  as  Katherine  Harvard's  or 
Betty  Clancy's,  and  yet  whose  hair,  once  of  midnight 
hue,  was  thickly  interwoven  with  gray.  She  was  tall — 
as  tall  as  Katherine — and  straight,  and  willowy,  and 
as  graceful  in  every  motion  she  made  as  a  fawn. 

Katherine  took  the  little  bag,  to  which  the  pen  and 
pad  had  been  returned,  and  led  the  pianiste  toward  the 
house. 

Bridge,  in  the  billiard-room,  had  been  discontinued 
somewhat  earlier  than  usual  that  day,  and  thus  it  hap- 
pened that  Conrad  Belknap  sauntered  through  the 
wide  doorway  at  the  moment  when  Katherine  and  the 
senorita  arrived  at  the  top  of  the  veranda  steps. 


62  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

He  came  to  a  sudden  stop  at  the  threshold  when  he 
discovered  them. 

It  seemed  to  Katherine — vaguely  then,  although  she 
recalled  the  circumstance  later — as  if  he  had  the  im- 
pulse to  turn  about  and  escape.  Instead,  he  moved 
forward,  and  with  the  expression  in  his  eyes  of  one  who 
expects  to  be  introduced. 

Katherine  presented  him  to  the  senorita  in  a  few  cool 
and  well-chosen  words,  to  which  she  added,  as  briefly  as 
possible,  an  explanation  of  the  senorita's  infirmity. 

A  look  of  wonderment — or  was  it  genuine  amaze- 
ment?— appeared  upon  the  features  of  the  gentlemanly 
card-sharp.  For  a  brief  moment  it  appeared  as  if  he 
likewise  was  speechless.  Then,  as  if  he  had  suddenly  re- 
called the  last  words  of  Katherine's  explanation  to  the 
effect  that  Senorita  Cervantez  could  hear  perfectly 
well,  he  uttered  a  few  well-selected  words  about  the 
pleasure  of  making  her  acquaintance,  bowed  low  over 
her  extended  hand  (another  indication  of  her  Spanish 
type,  by  the  way),  and  went  past  them  down  the  steps. 

But  he  turned  around  and  stood  staring  at  the  door- 
way after  they  had  passed  into  the  house  and  disap- 
peared. 

There  was  an  unmistakable  grin  of  amused  annoy- 
ance upon  his  face.  He  bore  the  attitude  of  one  who 
is  asking  himself  many  unanswerable  questions,  although 
he  uttered  no  word,  and  his  lips  did  not  move.  Present- 
ly he  shrugged,  and  threw  out  his  hands  with  the  palms 
upward,  like  a  pawnbroker  who  is  remarking,  "Veil, 
how  much  did  you  expect,  anyhow?"  and  continued  on 
his  way  to  the  tennis-courts. 

To  Betty,  by  whose  side  he  seated  himself,  he  ap- 
peared strangely  preoccupied ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that 
she  spoke  about  it. 

"I  was  thinking,"  he  explained  smilingly,  "what  a 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  PIANISTE  63 

pity  it  is  that  one  so  exquisitely  lovely  as  that  piano- 
player  should  be  speechless.  By  every  rule  of  fair  play, 
you  know,  she  ought  to  possess  a  beautiful  voice ;  one 
expects  it  of  her.  I — er — I  experienced  something  very 
much  like  a  shock,  Mrs.  Clancy,  when  I  was  told  that 
she  is  dumb.** 

"You  met  them,  and  Katherine  presented  you  ?  Isn't 
it  too  bad?" 

"Too  bad !  Why,  if  you  knew  what  a  voice  she — 
I  am  getting  twisted.  If  one  stops  to  realize  what  a 

voice  she  ought  to  have,  to  match  such  a  face "  He 

stopped  again,  and  a  grimace  which  might  have  ex- 
pressed regret,  disappointment,  admiration,  or  resent- 
ment, and  which,  in  fact  suggested  all  four,  found  ex- 
pression in  his  features. 

"To  think  of  her  being  a  dummy!"  he  added,  sotto 
voce,  but  with  emphasis. 

"That  is  distinctly  an  unkind  expression,  Mr.  Bel- 
knap,"  Betty  exclaimed  indignantly :  "She  is  not  dum- 
my. She  lost  her  voice  while  she  was  taking  singing- 
lessons — strained  it  studying  for  the  opera.  She  was 
to  be  a  very  great  star,  but — her  voice  left  her.  Her 
hearing  is  perfectly  good;  sometimes  she  can  speak, 
in  a  very  slow  whisper,  although  it  is  very  great  effort 
for  her  to  do  it,  and  nobody  ought  to  ask  it  of  her. 
Always  she  can  talk  with  her  fingers  on  the  piano- 
keys.  She " 

"You  surprise  me,  Mrs.  Clancy.  I  am  not  aware 
that  you  knew  the  lady.  I  had  been  led  to  believe  that 
she  was  a  stranger  to  all  of  us,"  Belknap  said  quietly. 
"Have  you — er — met  her  before  somewhere — or  heard 
her  play?" 

"No.  I  don't  know  her  at  all,  although  I  feel  as 
though  I  should.  She  is "  Betty  stopped. 


64  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"She  is — what?"  Belknap  asked  with  repressed  eager- 
ness to  hear  the  answer. 

Betty  tossed  her  head  and  laughed  aloud  as  she 
started  from  her  chair  to  her  feet. 

"I  started  to  say  that  twice,"  she  remarked,  with 
mischief  in  her  eyes,  "but  just  because  you  seem  so 
anxious  to  know  the  rest  of  it,  I  won't  finish  it.  I  am 
afraid,  Mr.  Belknap,  that  you  are  considering  the 
practicability  of  a  serious  flirtation  with  a  speechless 
woman,  so — I  shall  keep  half  an  eye  on  you." 

"Are  you  leaving  me  so  quickly?"  he  asked,  with  a 
show  of  regret  in  his  eyes. 

"Yes,  M.  Pathetique — for  you  are  pathetic  in  your 
pathos  over  the  beautiful  pianiste — I  am  going  in,  to 
the  telephone,  to  speak  to  my  husband.  Tom  is  so  im- 
pressionable that  I  really  think  he  should  be  warned 
beforehand  of  the  presence  of  one  so  surpassingly  beau- 
tiful as  Senorita  Cervantez.  Alle-ka-zam,  Mr.  Bel- 
knap," she  finished  mockingly,  and  ran  away,  laughing. 

Without  in  the  least  realizing  it,  she  left  the  man 
writhing. 

Betty  had  done  nothing  more  than  banter  him,  with- 
out forethought  or  objective;  but  in  both  her  words 
and  her  manner  he  read — it  was  pure  fancy,  of  course 
— a  threat.  She  had  conveyed  the  idea,  without  inten- 
tion to  do  so,  that  she  had  seen,  or  heard,  or  known 
Senorita  Cervantez  before  that  day,  and  that  for  some 
undisclosed  reason  she  preferred  to  keep  others  in 
ignorance  of  that  fact. 

If  Betty  had  sought  with  studied  deliberation  to 
stick  a  poisoned  pin  into  the  only  vulnerable  part  of 
Belknap's  anatomy,  she  could  not  have  accomplished 
it  so  well  as  by  those  carelessly  and  mischievously 
chosen  words. 

He  stared  after  her,  wondering  what  could  be  be- 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  PIANISTE  65 

hind  what  she  had  said,  for  he  was  strangely  puzzled, 
oddly  disturbed,  and  actually  worried  by  the  develop- 
ments that  had  followed  upon  the  arrival  of  Senorita 
Cervantez;  and  he  was  asking  himself  over  and  over 
again : 

"What  the  devil  does  she  mean  by  playing  dumb? 
What's  her  game  in  being  speechless?  Has  this  con- 
founded Betty  Clancy  ever  seen  her,  or  heard  her  play, 
or — heard  her  speak?  And  if  so,  does  she  know  that 
the  dummy  act  is  a  lie?  Has  Betty  Clancy  seen  me 
before,  too?  Has  she  seen  Berta  and  me  together 
somewhere?  She  is  from  the  South;  it  might  be  so. 
And  what  the  devil  is  she  telephoning  to  New  York 
about,  right  off  the  bat  after  this  happens?" 

Those  were  the  questions  that  flew  into  Belknap's 
mind  when  Betty  left  him,  but  the  most  puzzling  one  of 
the  lot  was  the  first  one:  "What  in  the  world  does 
Berta  mean — what  is  her  game — what  does  she  hope 
to  accomplish  by  playing  dumb?" 


LADY   KATE   GETS   WISE 

BETTY,  having  Tom  on  the  telephone,  announced  the 
arrival  of  the  senorita,  described  her  beautj  and  her 
infirmity,  expressed  t^.e  hope  that  he  would  be  out 
early,  asked  a  lot  of  immaterial  questions,  and  finally 
came  to  the  real  purpose  of  calling  him  up. 

"I  want  you,  please,  to  stop  at  the  house  on  your 
way  out  to-night,  and  bring  to  me  that  old  morocco 
case  with  the  strap  around  it,  that  used  to  belong  to  my 
grandmother.  You  remember  it,  don't  you?  It's  in 
the  safe  where  the  silver  is  kept.  Uhuh.  Yes,  dear. 
There  are  some  old  daguerreotypes  in  it,  you  remem- 
ber? They  were  made  about  a  thousand  years 
ago,  but  all  the  same,  Tom,  this  Senorita  Espa- 
fiola  is  a  dead  ringer  for  one  of  those  old  daguerreo- 
types, unless  I  am  very  greatly  mistaken.  When  she 
first  appeared  I  couldn't  for  the  life  of  me  think  where 
it  was  that  I  had  seen  her  before,  and  then  I  remem- 
bered that  old  portrait  in  grandmother's  morocco 
portfolio-case.  Of  course,  dear.  It  may  be  just  a  fool- 
notion  of  mine,  but  I'd  like  to  see  for  myself,  so  you 
needn't  look  at  it;  you  wouldn't  know,  anyhow,  be- 
cause you  haven't  seen  her.  A  beauty?  Oh,  my  dear! 
I  should  say  so !  Mr.  Belknap  has  lost  his  heart  to  her 
already.  Anyhow,  I  would  just  like  to  show  her  that 
old  picture,  if  it  does  look  like  her.  Uhuh.  Yes,  dear, 
of  course.  Now,  listen." 

66 


LADY  KATE  GETS  WISE  67 

She  finished  by  making  a  sound  in  imitation  of  a 
noisy  kiss,  and  hung  up. 

Katherine,  having  attended  to  the  wants  of  her  beau- 
tiful entertainer,  and  asked  her  to  join  the  guests  on 
the  veranda  as  soon  as  she  was  inclined  to  do  so,  and 
having  directed  that  the  senorita's  small  trunk  be 
brought  from  the  station,  went  out  of  the  house  by  the 
side  door,  and,  without  previous  intention,  but  because 
she  found  it  pleasant  to  be  alone  for  a  moment,  dropped 
upon  the  sheltered  rustic  seat  beneath  the  rose-bower 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  one  of  her  verbal  contests 
with  Belknap. 

One  could  see  out  from  its  secluded  recess  much  bet- 
ter than  into  it  from  without,  and  from  where  she  sat, 
through  the  interstices  between  climbing  rose-stems 
and  interlaced  boughs  of  foliage,  she  caught  glimpses 
of  the  figures  around  the  tennis-courts,  and  of  those 
upon  the  veranda. 

She  saw  Betty  leave  the  side  of  Belknap  and  go  into 
the  house,  laughing;  she  saw  Belknap,  presently,  rise 
and  stroll  about  the  grounds  with  apparent  aimlessness, 
although — and  she  found  that  she  was  watching  him 
intently,  without  having  realized  it — each  turn  that 
he  made  carried  him  nearer  to  that  same  side  entrance 
from  which  she  had  just  come. 

She  saw,  too,  that  when  he  had  passed  behind  the 
partial  screen  of  the  nearer  gardens,  he  glanced,  fur- 
tively, this  way  and  that,  as  if  to  discover  if  notice 
was  being  taken  of  his  movements. 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  started  into  quicker  motions, 
approached  the  steps  to  the  side  entrance,  sprang  up 
them,  and  darted  inside. 

It  was  then  that  Katherine's  police  training — in 
other  words,  the  habit  of  suspicion — proved  its  value. 


68  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

As  palpably  as  if  the  words  of  it  had  been  spoken 
into  her  ears,  the  truth  about  Senorita  Cervantez  was 
betrayed  to  her. 

Senorita  Cervantez  was  not  Senorita  Cervantez  at  all 
— or,  if  she  were  that — if  Cervantez  happened  to  be 
really  her  true  name,  then  her  other  one,  her  first  one, 
the  given  name  that  belonged  to  her  and  that  had  not 
been  mentioned,  was  Roberta. 

She  was  the  woman  with  the  voice ! 

She  was  the  female  accomplice  of  Conrad  Belknap, 
whose  arrival  at  Myquest  she  had  been  anticipating. 

Katherine  was  dazed  by  the  shock  of  the  intelligence, 
and  she  sat  very  still,  indeed,  in  her  rose  bower. 

She  had  not  dreamed  of  such  a  possibility — although 
she  realized  that  she  might  well  have  done  so,  for  was 
not  the  time  at  hand  when  the  accomplice  was  to  be 
expected  to  arrive  at  Myquest  ?  Such  a  thought  would 
not  have  occurred  to  her  in  wildest  imaginings  if  she 
had  not  seen  and  watched  Belknap's  actions  just  then ; 
but  was  not  the  time  at  hand  for  the  fulfillment  of  the 
"arrangements,"  for  the  appearance  at  Myquest  of 
the  accomplice,  as  revealed  by  the  voices  in  the  tele- 
phone ? 

"Assuredly,"  she  told  herself  inaudibly,  "there  can 
be  no  mistake." 

She  recalled  also  the  meeting  between  the  two  on 
the  veranda,  when  she  was  taking  the  senorita  into  the 
house — Belknap's  apparent  amazement  because  of  the 
pianiste's  infirmity,  which  had  been  natural  enough  at 
the  time,  but  which  took  on  an  entirely  new  aspect  in 
the  list  of  the  later  revelation. 

He  had  not  anticipated  that ;  he  had  not  expected  it ; 
it  had  amazed  him  out  of  his  studied  reserve  and  calm 
— because  he  had  not  been  told  to  expect  it. 

"But  why,  why,  why  was  he  not  told?"  Katherine 


LADY  KATE  GETS  WISE  69 

demanded  of  herself  voicelessly;  and  immediately  a 
great  light  fell  upon  her. 

"Why,  indeed?'*  Katherine  did  not  give  voice  to 
her  thoughts,  but  they  were  perfectly  worded  for  all 
of  that;  and  she  replied  to  the  self-asked  query: 

"Because  she  did  not  know  it  herself  until,  upon 
that  instant  when  she  heard  my  voice  speaking  to  her 
in  welcome,  and  recognized  it,  she  knew  that  she  would 
betray  herself  to  me  on  the  spot,  if  she  uttered  a  word. 
That's  why.  And,  oh,  what  wit !  What  splendid  pres- 
ence of  mind!  What  superlative  mental  preparedness 
for  emergencies !  And  she  never  once  batted  an  eye." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  precise  effect  up- 
on Katherine  Harvard  of  that  suddenly  acquired  knowl- 
edge— for,  be  it  said  with  all  emphasis,  it  was  knowl- 
edge absolute,  even  though  it  had  not  been  so  much 
as  suggested  to  her  mind  until  that  moment  of  com- 
plete conviction  of  its  truth. 

It  stunned  her  for  the  moment. 

The  face,  the  manner,  the  personality  of  the  seno- 
rita,  had  impressed  Katherine  as  favorably  as  had  the 
woman's  voice  when  she  had  first  heard  it  upon  the  tele- 
phone wire.  She  had  been  drawn  to  the  entertainer, 
strangely,  oddly,  psychologically,  intuitively — inex- 
plicably is  perhaps  a  better  word  than  any  of  them — 
and  the  fact  remained,  the  puzzling  fact,  too,  that  it 
had  been  a  rare  event,  indeed,  in  Katherine's  experi- 
ences, when  her  intuitions  had  been  at  fault. 

Yet,  present  in  her  own  home,  was  the  beautiful  wo- 
man who  was  a  declared  enemy ;  a  woman  who  must, 
perforce,  also  have  knowledge  of  Katherine's  secret, 
and  who  had  come  there  to  act  as  an  accomplice  and 
an  assistant  to  Belknap  in  the  threat  to  divulge  it, 
unless — unless  what?  That  was  the  puzzle.  What — 


70  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

what  could  it  be  that  Belknap  and  this  beautiful  wo- 
man were  after  at  Myquest? 

And  in  her  was  no  mean  adversary. 

In  her  was  a  foeman  worthy  of  all  of  Katherine's 
skill ;  as  subtle,  as  resourceful,  as  ready  of  wit,  and  as 
courageous  as  Katherine  herself. 

Like  the  war-horse  that  scents  the  distant  battle, 
like  the  cavalry  steed  that  hears  the  bugle's  peal  to 
"boots  and  saddles,"  Katherine  lifted  her  head,  and 
with  partly  distended  nostrils,  started  to  her  feet  be- 
neath the  rose-bower,  with  the  light  of  battle  shining 
in  her  eyes,  with  defiance  in  her  heart  and  brain,  and 
with  the  glory  of  successful  conquest  for  her  accepted 
goal. 

"So  be  it,"  she  murmured,  and  stepped  from  the 
bower  into  the  pathway,  moving  swiftly  along  it  toward 
the  side  entrance  through  which  Belknap  had  disap- 
peared. 

She  believed  that  he  had  gone  in  to  seek  an  inter- 
view with  the  senorita,  and  she  hoped  that  she  might 
find  them  and  surprise  them  in  the  act  of  conversing  to- 
gether, thus  exposing  the  senoritd's  subterfuge. 

Such  was  Katherine's  intention  when  she  started  for- 
ward, for  she  was  filled  with  resentment  at  the  decep- 
tion that  had  been  so  deftly  practised  upon  her;  but 
by  the  time  she  passed  the  doorway  a  second  thought 
convinced  her  of  the  impracticability  of  such  an  act. 

"Better,  much  better,  to  make  them  both  believe 
that  I  am  ignorant  of  the  deception,"  she  told  herself, 
"and  to  watch — and  wait — and  to  keep  on  watching 
and  waiting." 

She  came  upon  them  silently  herself  unobserved, 
where  they  faced  one  another  in  the  embrasure  of  a 
window  in  the  drawing-room. 

Senorita  Cervantez,  pianiste,  undoubted  accomplice 


LADY  KATE  GETS  WISE  71 

of  Conrad  Belknap — voiceless,  and  yet,  if  the  truth  were 
known,  the  possessor  of  the  most  attractive  speaking- 
voice  that  Katherine  had  ever  heard — proved  herself 
to  be  far  too  capable  and  shrewd  to  expose  herself 
through  carelessness  at  the  very  beginning  of  her  stay 
at  Myqueet. 

She  was  standing  in  the  embrasure  of  the  drawing- 
room  window,  with  Belknap,  it  is  true,  when  Katherine 
noiselessly  approached  them  through  the  music-room; 
but — a  little  sheaf  of  ivory  tablets  and  a  tiny  gold 
pencil  (not  unlike  the  same  convenience  that  was  af- 
fected by  Mm.  Savage),  dropped  from  her  fingers  at 
the  moment  when  Katherine  discovered  them,  and  it 
would  have  been  apparent  to  anybody  that  she  had  been 
using  both,  to  converse  with  her  companion.  The  arti- 
cles were,  seemingly ,  a  part  of  her  regular  apparel,  and 
were  attached  to  a  fine  gold  chain  that  encircled  her 
neck,  as  an  older  woman  might  have  carried  a  lorgnette. 

There  was  not  a  circumstance  connected  with  her 
expression  or  demeanor  to  betray  her  to  the  sharpest 
observer,  and  the  sole  satisfaction  that  Katherine  could 
glean  by  reason  of  her  stealthy  approach,  was  in  Bel- 
knap's  attitude. 

He  was  plainly  annoyed,  palpably  frustrated,  and 
flustered.  It  was  evident  to  Katherine  that  he  had  de- 
manded an  explanation,  and  that  it  had  been  denied 
to  him.  If  she  had  been  aware  of  the  last  communica- 
tion that  was  written  on  one  of  the  ivory  tablets,  and 
as  speedily  erased,  she  would  have  comprehended  better 
the  reason  for  the  exasperation  that  gripped  him. 

"One  more  such  remark  from  you  will  send  me  back 
to  where  I  came  from.  I  will  take  no  risks.  R.'s  sis- 
ter is  shrewder  than  you  think  for.  If  you  don't  play 
up  to  me,  thoroughly,  I  will  go  away,  and  you  will 
have  to  play  a  lone  hand;  that  is  final,"  was  what  the 


72  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

senorita  had  written — and  Katherine  had  not  arrived 
on  the  scene  soon  enough  to  overhear  the  remark  that 
had  induced  it. 

Having  expressed  herself,  the  senorita  was  ready  to 
end  the  interview. 

Even  as  Katherine  crossed  the  music-room  toward 
them  and  saw  the  ivory  tablets  drop  from  Roberta's 
fingers,  she  stepped  through  the  open  window  to  the 
veranda,  and  Belknap,  perforce,  followed. 

So  did  Katherine,  in  effect,  although  she  passed  out 
by  way  of  the  door. 

Belknap  joined  the  society  buds  at  the  end  of  the 
veranda,  who  like  to  coquette  with  him,  and  Roberta 
(it  was  thus  that  Katherine  mentally  named  her,  now) 
was  standing  beside  a  chair  occupied  by  Mme.  Savage, 
and  was  writing  rapidly  upon  one  of  the  tablets  when 
Katherine  went  outside. 

"Dear  me !  You  don't  say !  How  sorry  I  am !" 
Mme.  Savage  was  exclaiming  while  she  read  what  was 
written  for  her.  "And  to  think  that  I  was  never  told 
about  it.  Oh,  well,  I  suppose  I  was  told,  and  paid  no 
attention;  it's  just  like  me;  I'm  often  told  things  that 
I  don't  hear." 

Then,  with  amazing  suddenness,  the  old  lady  changed 
her  speech  into  Spanish,  taking  it  for  granted  that  it 
was  the  native  tongue  of  Senorita  Cervantez — and 
Katherine,  watching  and  listening,  saw  Roberta  smile 
and  nod  her  head,  and  have  recourse  to  her  tablets 
again,  evidently  responding  in  the  language  of  Castile. 

So  she  was  quite  prepared  in  that  way,  too,  and  was 
not  to  be  surprised  off  guard. 

Katherine  went  to  them,  and  Roberta  wrote : 

"Please  go  with  me  to  the  piano,  and  let  me  play  for 
you,  first;  but  ask  the  others  not  to  follow  us.  I  wish 
to  play,  now,  to  you,  alone." 


LADY  KATE  GETS  WISE  7S 

So  Katherine  made  the  announcement — and  then,  as 
they  went  toward  the  doorway  side  by  side,  she  felt 
one  of  Roberta's  arms  passed  softly  around  her,  and 
heard  the  faintest  of  whispers  in  her  ear,  saying: 

"May  I,  please?"  And,  when  Katherine  nodded  her 
head  in  reply,  and  they  had  passed  the  portal,  that 
far-away,  almost  indistinct  whispering  continued: 
"You  are  so  sweet  and  lovely  to  me,  Mrs.  Harvard. 
Forgive  me  if  I  seem  too  familiar." 

Then,  to  Katherine's  utter  amazement,  Roberta 
kissed  her  on  the  cheek. 

Was  the  strange  woman  a  saint  in  the  toils  of  Satan, 
compelled  against  her  will  to  become  Belknap's  ac- 
complice in  dishonor  and  crime?  Was  she,  also,  a 
victim  of  the  effrontery  and  threats  of  Belknap,  be- 
cause of  some  secret  of  hers  that  the  man  possessed? 
Or,  was  she  just  a  willing  tool,  an  unmoral  creature,  a 
beautiful  vampire,  and,  with  it  all,  a  perfect,  a  superb 
actress? 

Katherine  shuddered  involuntarily  even  while  she 
returned  Roberta's  embrace.  She  was  repelled  and  at- 
tracted. The  woman  frightened  her,  and  charmed  her. 
She  wanted  to  strike  her  and  hurt  her  because  of  her 
association  with  Belknap,  and  she  longed  to  embrace 
her  and  make  a  friend  and  confidante  of  her,  because  of 
the  magnetism  and  the  fascination  that  she  exerted. 

Roberta  played. 

Katherine  had  dropped  upon  a  chair  with  her  elbow 
on  the  arm  of  it  and  her  chin  in  her  hand. 

Never,  never,  had  she  listened  to  such  music  as  she 
heard  then. 

Seiiorita  Cervantez  had  written  truly  upon  her  tablet 
when  she  asserted  that  she  could  talk  with  her  fingers. 

Such  fingers  and  hands,  such  messages  as  they  sent 


74  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

out,  such  music  as  they  produced !  It  was  wonderful — 
impromptu,  also,  Katherine  believed. 

It  began  with  brilliance,  as  if  portraying  the  full- 
ness of  life's  contentment ;  it  glided  into  the  rhythm  of 
quiet  harmony,  as  if  two,  who  were  all  the  world  to  one 
another,  were  alone  together,  and  dwelt  in  happiness ; 
it  rumbled  into  distant  storms  and  the  threatenings 
of  gathering  clouds;  it  crashed  into  violence,  and  up- 
heaval, and  strife,  and  terror;  it  minored  into  pathos 
and  sorrows,  and  into  the  shadows  of  regret  and  re- 
morse; it  rose  again  into  a  tarantella  of  recklessness 
and  abandon,  of  license  and  irresponsibility ;  it  sub- 
sided, slowly,  into  the  humdrum  of  mingled  storm  and 
clearing;  it  died  away,  gradually,  in  major  and  minor 
minglings  of  uncertainties  and  doubts,  mitigated  by 
the  offerings  of  promises  and  hopes — and  at  last  it 
tinkled  away  into  silence,  at  high  treble,  followed  by  a 
single,  distant  note  of  bass,  uncannily  giving  the  im- 
pression of  a  double  interrogation  at  the  end. 

Truly  the  woman  could  talk  with  her  fingers. 

Katherine  had  the  indefinable  sensation  of  having 
viewed,  as  in  a  dream,  the  pictured  story  of  Roberta's 
past — of  having  seen  a  vague,  unshaped  vision  of  it, 
with  its  hopes,  and  promises,  its  passions  and  emotions, 
its  mistakes  and  their  penalties,  its  regrets  and  yearn- 
ings; and,  at  the  end,  it  had  seemed  like  a  whispered, 
inarticulate  prayer  for  uplift  and  aid  to  an  opportun- 
ity for  atonement  by  good  deeds. 

Roberta  left  the  piano  and  went  to  Katherine  where 
she  sat  in  silent  and  motionless  absorption.  She  bent 
down  dose  to  her  beautiful  young  hostess — as  beautiful 
in  a  different  type  as  herself — and  with  her  lips  touch- 
ing Katherine's  ear,  whispered,  so  faintly  that  it  was  an 
impression  rather  than  a  sound  that  escaped  her: 

"Dear  Mrs.  Harvard,  did  I  say  truly  when  I  wrote 


LADY  KATE  GETS  WISE  75 

that  I  could  talk  with  my  fingers?  I  have  tried  to  tell 
you  something  about  myself — something  of  the  past." 
She  seemed  to  hesitate,  then,  for  an  instant,  and  added 
—the  whispered  words  being  fainter  than  before:  "I 
want — oh,  how  much  I  do  want  to  have  you  try  to  love 
me." 

Katherine,  startled  by  the  passionate  longing  that 
was  conveyed,  even  by  so  faint  a  whisper,  looked  up 
quickly,  but  already  Roberta  had  pulled  herself  erect, 
had  turned  away,  and  was  gliding  swiftly  out  of  the 
room. 

Truly  was  she  a  woman  of  mystery ;  aye,  truly ! 

Then  it  was  that  Katherine  saw  something  more ;  she 
saw  Belknap  as  he  stepped  partly  into  view  from  be- 
hind an  easel  in  the  drawing-room;  she  saw  him  thrust 
out  an  arm  and  hand,  and  seize  upon  one  of  Roberta's 
wrists ;  she  saw  him  draw  her  forcibly  after  him  as  he 
retreated  again  behind  the  easel ;  and  she  saw  a  frown 
between  his  eyes  and  the  sneering  snarl  of  his  wolfish 
smile  baring  his  glistening  teeth.  Also,  having  studied 
it  and  been  trained  to  it,  she  could  lip-read  the  words 
he  uttered,  although  she  could  not  hear  them — but,  if 
Katherine  had  needed  confirmation  of  her  suspicions, 
she  received  it. 

"You  she-devil !"  were  the  words  he  used.  "What  do 
you- 


Then  they  both  passed  beyond  her  view. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    OLD    DAGUERREOTYPE 

TOM  and  Betty  Clancy,  in  the  privacy  of  their  own 
suite  at  Myquest,  were  differently  employed,  and  yet 
the  investigations  of  both  were  tending  toward  the  same 
consequence — if  either  had  but  known  it. 

It  was  Saturday  midnight ;  that  is  to  say,  the  night 
of  the  day  following  upon  the  arrival  of  Senorita  Cer- 
vantez,  and  Betty's  absorption  by  her  occupation  was 
due  to  the  fact  that  Tom,  the  preceding  day,  had  en- 
tirely forgotten  her  telephonic  order  about  the  morocco 
portfolio-case  that  had  belonged  to  her  grandmother. 
He  had  not  been  neglectful  a  second  time  (after  Betty 
had  expressed  her  opinion  of  his  indifference  to  her 
wishes),  you  may  be  sure;  and  so,  she  was  studiously 
examining  the  daguerreotype  likenesses  of  a  collection 
of  individuals  who  had  lived  generations  before  she  was 
born. 

Tom,  on  the  other  hand,  had  taken  a  sealed  envelope 
from  the  coat  he  had  worn  into  the  city  that  day,  and 
was  poring  over  a  couple  of  typewritten  pages  that  it 
had  contained. 

Both  had  preferred  to  wait  until  they  had  gone  to 
their  rooms  for  the  night  to  perform  their  separate 
tasks,  for,  although  not  a  word  had  passed  between 
them  in  regard  to  their  designs,  each  wished  to  discuss 
with  the  other  the  facts — or  the  suggestions — -which 
might  accrue. 

76 


THE  OLD  DAGUERREOTYPE  77 

We  already  know  what  Betty  searched  for.  As  for 
Tom — well,  we  need  only  recall  to  mind  a  conversation 
between  him  and  Bing  when  they  were  on  their  way 
to  town  the  preceding  Tuesday,  and  when  the  latter 
had  sought  Tom's  opinion  of  Belknap,  and  Tom  had 
so  frankly  expressed  it. 

Neither  of  them  had  said  much  on  the  subject  at  the 
time,  but  both  had  continued  to  "think"  about  it  after- 
ward— and  Tom  had  done  some  "acting"  as  well  as 
thinking. 

He  had  no  sooner  attended  to  his  mail  and  finished 
his  regular  morning  dictation,  that  day,  than  he  swung 
the  bracketed  telephone  beside  his  desk  into  use,  and 
called  up  the  Rodney  Rushton  Detective  Bureau.  His 
instructions  to  ex-Lieutenant  Rushton,  formerly  of  the 
police  headquarters  detective  staff,  were  characteristic, 
and  are  worth  repeating. 

"Hello,  Rushton,"  he  said.  "This  is  Clancy.  Sure. 
I'm  always  well.  Say!  take  your  pencil  and  jot  down 
a  few  of  the  items  that  I'm  going  to  mention,  and  that 
you  will  want  to  remember.  All  ready?  There's  a  guy 
down  at  Myquest — Mr.  Harvard's  place  on  Long  Is- 
land, you  know — by  the  name  of  Conrad  Belknap.  Got 
that?  I  don't  suppose  it's  his  right  name,  but  it's  the 
only  one  I  know.  He  had  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
the  Harry  Archers,  and  they  took  him  to  Myquest.  I 
don't  like  him,  Rushton.  No;  there  is  no  particular 
reason  why  I  don't;  I  just  do  not.  He  plays  cards 
just  as  if  he  knew  how,  and  he's  got  a  grin  on  him 
exactly  like  the  cat's  after  it  swallowed  the  canary. 
Get  me?  I  want  his  dossier.  I  want  you  to  find  out 
where  he  came  from,  what  brought  him  to  New  York, 
what  he  is  here  for,  who  his  acquaintances  and  friends 
are,  what  he  eats  and  where  he  sleeps  when  he  isn't 
leeching  on  somebody,  and — you  get  me,  don't  you? 


78  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

All  right,  Rushton.  Have  some  sort  of  report  ready 
for  me  by  noon,  Saturday.  No;  send  it  to  my  office. 
I'll  take  it  down  to  Myquest  with  me,  and  look  it  over, 
and  Monday  morning  I  will  telephone  for  you  to  come 
down  here  to  see  me." 

It  was  the  report  that  he  had  received  from  Rodney 
Rushton  that  Tom  was  reading  while  Betty  was  search- 
ing among  the  daguerreotypes. 

Betty  completed  her  investigations  first. 

She  started  eagerly,  and  her  lips  parted  to  speak 
to  Tom,  when,  perceiving  that  he  was  closely  occupied, 
she  waited;  then,  after  another  interval,  he  broke  the 
silence  between  them — rather  queerly,  too,  she  thought. 

"Look  here,  Betty,"  he  said,  "what  is  your  opinion 
of  that  chap  Belknap?  You're  rather  clever  about 
such  things,  and  I'd  like  to  hear  it." 

"Mr.  Belknap?  Oh,  he's  good  looking,  rather  dis- 
tinguished in  appearance,  and " 

"That  isn't  your  opinion;  it's  the  verdict  of  the 
bunch.  I  want  yours — flat-footed." 

"I  think  he's  horrid — if  you  must  know." 

"Oh,  do  you?"  Tom  laughed.  "I'd  have  bet  a  thou- 
sand on  your  answer.  Now,  tell  me  why?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  couldn't  put  my  finger  on  a 
thing  that  he's  done,  or  failed  to  do,  for  that  matter. 
He's — just  horrid — kinda  snaky.  I  always  have  the 
feeling  when  I  am  near  to  him,  that  he  ought  to  smell 
bad ;  only  he  doesn't ;  or,  at  least  if  he  does,  I  have  never 
noticed  it.  He's — er — repulsive  to  me;  and — I  ought 
not  to  say  this,  but  I'm  going  to,  just  the  same — I 
can't  get  the  notion  out  of  my  head  that  Kitten  is 
afraid  of  him." 

"Wha-a-af?"  Tom,  in  his  astonishment,  turned 
around  in  his  chair  and  stared. 


THE  OLD  DAGUERREOTYPE  79 

Bessie  nodded  her  head  with  emphasis.  Then  she 
replied,  slowly: 

"I've  seen  her  start,  and  shiver,  and  contract  her 
lips  and  her  eyelids  when  he  has  spoken  suddenly  to 
her — not  so  that  anybody  but  I  would  notice  it — not  so 
that  I  would,  if  we  hadn't  been  almost  like  twin  sisters 
ever  since  we  were  born.  I — I  feel  it,  rather  than  see  it. 
Katherine  is  afraid  of  him  or  I  miss  my  reckon-so. 
And,  say,  Tom,  dear,  have  you  ever  watched  a  cat  that 
was  playing  with  a  mouse  that  wasn't  much  hurt?  Just 
pretending  not  to  see  it,  but  watching  all  the  time  with 
a  sort  of  satisfied  smirk  around  its  jowl,  and  with  one 
of  its  velvet-padded  paws  ready  to  shoot  out  and  plant 
their  needle-pointed  claws  into  Mr.  Mouse's  tender 
skin?  Well,  that's  exactly  the  way  that  Conrad  Bel- 
knap  looks  to  me  when  he's  anywhere  near  to  Katherine. 
Now,  if  you  can  make  head  and  tail  to  that,  you're 
welcome." 

"That  isn't  a  polite  way  to  speak  of  one  of  her 
guests,  is  it?"  Tom  bantered. 

"He  isn't  her  guest;  he's  Harry  Archer's — and 
Harry  doesn't  know  him  from  Adam.  Kitten  told  me 
so.  I  asked  her,  and  she  had  to  tell  me.  What  are 
you  questioning  me  about  him  for?" 

"Because  I  don't  like  him  any  more  than  you  do, 
Betty." 

"I   thought   so." 

"So  I  put  Rushton  on  his  trail." 

"What  does  he  say  about  him?" 

"That  is  what  I've  just  been  reading.  He  doesn't 
say  anything — and  he  uses  two  sheets  of  letter-paper 
to  do  it.  The  gist  of  it  all  is  that  Belknap  showed  up 
in  town  about  three  weeks  ago;  brought  letters  of  in- 
troduction to  a  lot  of  good  people;  has  been  'put  up' 
at  half  a  dozen  clubs ;  lives,  when  he's  in  town,  at  the 


80  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Hotel  Colossal;  is  always  well  supplied  with  money; 
poses  as  the  owner  of  mines  and  ranches  in  the  south- 
west, and  is  probably  trying  to  promote  them;  regis- 
tered as  from  Phoenix,  Arizona,  but  is  supposed,  in 
Arizona,  to  be  from  New  Orleans — and  the  chief  of 
police  in  New  Orleans  never  heard  of  him  and  doesn't 
know  anything  about  him.  Rushton's  report  closes 
with  the  two  words,  'more  later.' ' 

"Are  you  through  with  Mr.  Belknap  for  the  moment, 
Tom?" 

"Yes.     Why?'* 

"Come  over  here  and  take  a  peep  at  this  picture, 
and  tell  me  who  it  looks  like." 

Clancy  did  so.  He  leaned  over  Betty's  shoulder, 
and  because  of  the  reflected  light,  could  not  see  the 
daguerreotype  distinctly.  He  took  it  in  his  hand  and 
presently  got  it  into  a  position  so  that  the  picture  was 
risible. 

"Great  Scott !"  he  exclaimed,  staring  at  it.  Then  he 
turned  it  over  in  his  hand,  satisfying  himself  that  it 
really  was  an  ancient  daguerreotype,  case  and  all. 
Next,  he  covered  the  lower  part  of  the  picture  with  one 
of  his  hands  and  put  a  thumb  over  the  top  of  it,  con- 
cealing the  hair;  and  after  a  moment,  with  entire  con- 
viction, he  said : 

"Betty,  if  it  weren't  for  the  style  of  dress,  and  the 
way  the  hair  is  done — if  I  could  see  nothing  but  the 
features,  I'd  be  willing  to  take  the  witness-stand  and 
swear  that  the  beautiful  dummy  who  played  for  us  so 
wonderfully  to-night — Senorita  Cervantez,  is  her  name, 
isn't  it? — sat  for  his  picture.  Whose  picture  is  it, 
anyhow?" 

"She  was  my  great-grandmother,  Tom.  Also,  she 
was  Katherine's  great-great-aunt,  because  her  brother 
was  Katherine's  great-grandfather.  But  that  isn't  the 


THE  OLD  DAGUERREOTYPE  81 

point;  this  is  it:  who  is  Senorita  Cervantez — who  can 
she  be — that  she  is  a  perfect  facial  reproduction  of  my 
great-grandmother  and  Kitten's  great-great-aunt  when 
she  was  twenty  years  old — in  the  year  1845,  seventy- 
two  years  ago?  Who  is  the  beautiful  senorita,  Tom? 
Who  can  she  be?" 

There  were  other  restless  spirits  and  preoccupied 
mentalities  at  Myquest  that  Saturday  night. 

The  guests  had  begun  to  seek  their  several  quarters 
earlier  than  customary,  ostensibly  to  make  ready  for  a 
planned  excursion  for  the  morrow,  so  that  by  eleven 
o'clock  Tom  and  Betty  Clancy,  the  Archers,  Demming, 
and  Coraline  Crane — who  were  rapidly  approaching 
the  beatific  state  whereby  an  engagement  is  announced 
— Diana  Loring  and  Belknap,  who  seemed  to  find  mu- 
tual delight  in  one  another's  society,  and  the  senorita 
with  Bing  and  Lady  Kate,  were  all  that  remained  be- 
low stairs. 

It  was  shortly  after  eleven  when  Demming  and  Miss 
Crane  wandered  down  a  path  into  the  shrubbery  for 
their  last  good-nights,  to  reappear  shortly,  and  part, 
and  disappear  toward  their  separate  ways.  Then  the 
senorita  rose  abruptly,  murmured  a  collective  good- 
night to  all  of  them,  and  glided  swiftly  away,  thus  an- 
ticipating by  a  hair  the  departure  of  Miss  Loring — 
and  making  it  seem  to  the  ever-observant  Katherine 
that  Roberta  had  been  watching  them  for  the  very  pur- 
pose of  rising  and  going  at  the  moment  when  she  would 
best  be  able  to  avoid  Belknap ;  and  Katherine  was  sure 
that  she  caught  a  glint  in  Belknap's  eyes  that  mani- 
fested chagrin  because  Roberta  had  avoided  him. 

However,  she  did  escape  without  giving  Belknap  an 
opportunity  for  a  word  with  her,  and  without  a  glance 
in  his  direction,  although  he  did  rise  from  the  swing- 
ing piazza-chair,  as  if  to  approach  her. 


82  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIN» 

The  Archers  were  next  to  leave;  then  the  Clancys; 
and  as  they  passed  into  the  house  Belknap  lighted  a 
fresh  cigarette,  crossed  to  the  top  of  the  steps,  and 
remarked : 

"The  night  is  much  too  fine  to  turn  in  jet.  I  think 
I'll  take  a  stroll." 

He  disappeared  down  one  of  the  paths,  thus  leaving 
Harvard  and  his  wife  alone. 

"Go  to  bed  if  you  like,  Katherine,"  Bing  remarked. 
"I'll  sit  here  a  while  longer — possibly  I'll  wait  for 
Belknap.  I  don't  feel  like  going  in  just  yet." 

Katherine,  who  had  risen  at  the  beginning  of  his 
speech,  started  a  trifle  as  she  bent  forward  to  kiss  her 
husband  good-night — and  then  assuming  that  his  re- 
mark about  waiting  for  Belknap  had  been  merely  a 
casual  one,  an  excuse  rather  than  a  purpose,  she  went 
inside. 

Bing  Harvard  did  not  alter  his  reclining  position 
upon  the  chair  he  occupied  for  several  moments  after 
Katherine  had  gone;  but,  then,  he  got  upon  his  feet, 
passed  down  the  length  of  the  veranda,  turned  and  de- 
scended by  the  side  steps  to  the  path. 

Instantly,  when  he  had  gained  the  shaded  walk,  he 
was  all  alertness. 

The  instinctive  dislike  that  he  felt  toward  Belknap 
had  crystallized  into  a  settled  one  during  the  week 
just  past — and  he  had  not  a  reason  in  the  world  that 
he  could  call  by  name  to  account  for  it. 

But  the  fact  troubled  him;  also  it  had  made  him 
hypersensitive  to  every  surrounding  condition,  and 
superwatchful  of  the  little  things  that  happened — and 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  be  the  last  one  in  the 
house  to  go  to  bed  that  night,  with  no  reason  whatever 
for  the  decision. 

Nor  did  he  become  alert  because  of  any  accountable 


THE  OLD  DAGUERREOTYPE  83 

reason  when  he  entered  the  shadows  of  the  grounds; 
rather,  it  was  the  alertness  of  habit,  inculcated  during 
the  Night  Wind  days,  and  never  quite  abandoned  since 
then. 

Like  every  other  member  of  the  household,  he  was 
conscious  of  the  charm  of  Senorita  Cevantez,  and  un- 
der the  spell  of  her  marvelous  skill  upon  the  piano ;  also, 
like  the  others,  although  a  little  more  so  because  more 
sensitive  in  that  respect,  he  resented  the  unkindness  of 
the  fate  that  had  deprived  her  of  the  power  of  speech. 
It  seemed  monstrous  to  him — unbelievably  preposterous 
— a  travesty;  and  he  had  found  it  difficult  to  keep  his 
eyes  away  from  her. 

Thus,  while  studying  her  with  no  other  incentives 
than  sympathy  and  admiration,  but  nevertheless  watch- 
ing her  covertly,  he  had  seen — well,  other  things  that  he 
had  not  sought;  little,  nameless,  unimportant  triviali- 
ties, chiefest  among  which  was  the  impression  he  re- 
ceived of  her  suppressed — but  to  him  apparent — con- 
sciousness of  Belknap. 

Outwardly  she  seemed  almost  to  ignore  him — to  be 
less  aware  of  him  than  of  any  other  gentleman  in  the 
party ;  and  yet  Bing  felt,  rather  than  was  conscious  of 
it,  that  the  man  did  not  utter  a  word  that  Senorita  Cer- 
vantez  did  not  hear  and  register — that  the  man  did 
not  make  a  move,  however  natural,  simple,  or  unimport- 
ant, that  Senorita  Cervantez  did  not,  by  some  occult 
sensitiveness,  anticipate. 

Perhaps  it  was  partly  because  Bing  was  also  covertly 
watchful  of  Belknap,  although  unconscious  of  it,  that 
he  saw  and  took  account  of  such  happenings — if  there 
were  such ;  and  he  was  by  no  means  sure  on  that  point. 

He  did  not  go  around  to  the  side  steps  of  the  veranda 
and  descend  to  the  path  for  the  definite  purpose  of 


84  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

watching  Belknap ;  in  reality  he  had  no  thought  of  such 
a  purpose  when  he  started. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  his  purpose,  just  the  same — 
and  before  he  returned  to  the  house  and  sought  his  bed, 
he  had  found  a  reason  for  more  puzzling  surmises  anent 
the  true  character  and  calling,  and  the  undeveloped 
purposes,  of  Mr.  Conrad  Belknap. 

Katherine  was  restless  also. 

She  did  not  retire  when  she  had  prepared  herself 
for  bed.  Instead,  after  a  moment  of  pondering,  she 
put  on  a  daintily  embroidered  negligee  over  her  night 
dress,  extinguished  the  lights  in  her  room,  and  stepped 
through  the  open  French  window  to  her  private  bal- 
cony. 

She  had  at  the  moment  no  other  thought  than  to  sit, 
quiescent,  in  the  starlit  night  and  think  upon  her  per- 
plexities; but,  with  the  instant  of  stepping  outside, 
with  the  black  background  of  the  darkened  window  be- 
hind her,  and  the  starlight  and  waning  moonbeams  up- 
on the  gardenlike  grounds  of  Myquest  beneath  her,  she 
too,  became  alert  and  watchful. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MIDNIGHT AND  AFTEE 

SHE  saw  the  figure  of  a  man  standing  without  mo- 
tion just  within  the  deep  shadow  cast  by  a  thick- 
boughed  balsam  that  grew  near  to  one  of  the  paths,  and 
a  spark  of  light  that  wavered  close  to  him  told  her  that 
it  was  probably  Belknap.  Harvard  did  not  smoke. 

He  stood  like  a  statue,  and  nothing  about  him,  save 
the  spark  of  fire,  moved.  He  seemed  to  be  watching  and 
waiting,  and  Katherine  remembered  that  the  tree  which 
sheltered  him  was  located  about  midway  of  the  dis- 
tance between  the  little  balcony  beneath  her  own  win- 
dow, and  another  one  like  it  at  one  of  the  windows 
of  the  room  that  Roberta  occupied — which,  as  she  dis- 
covered by  one  swift  glance  in  that  direction,  was  still 
lighted. 

Katherine  was  puzzled  and  disturbed. 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  that  Belknap  might  be  watch- 
ing her  own  window — or  that  she  was  visible  from  the 
grounds  below.  She  did  at  once  assume  that  he  was 
waiting  beneath  the  senorita's  window  for  some  sort  of 
signal — and  that  she  desired  very  much  indeed  to  see 
whatever  might  happen. 

However,  there  were  eyes  in  the  shadows  below  that 
did  discover  her;  eyes  that  did  not  belong  to  Conrad 
Belknap ;  eyes  that  had  seen  him  standing  in  the  shadow 
of  the  balsam  as  if  waiting,  that  had  then  sought  the 
windows  of  Katherine's  room  in  time  to  see  the  light 
extinguished  behind  them ;  eyes  that  glowed  and  burned 

85 


86  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

in  the  darkness  because  of  what  they  had  seen,  and 
were  seeing;  Bingham  Harvard's  eyes. 

Katherine  had  no  thought  that  Bing  might  be  some- 
where down  there.  He  was  the  last  person  in  the  world 
to  watch  or  spy  upon  another ;  and  there  was  no  reason 
that  he  could  be  aware  of  why  he  should  watch  Belknap. 

If  she  had  thought  of  her  husband  at  all  at  that  mo- 
ment, which  she  did  not,  she  would  have  believed  him 
still  seated  on  the  veranda  or  gone  to  his  room  and  to 
bed. 

It  did  occur  to  her  to  have  a  care  lest  Belknap  dis- 
cover her,  but  she  reflected  that  the  pink  of  her  negligee 
would  be  like  black  in  the  shadow  where  she  stood,  and 
therefore  practically  invisible;  nevertheless,  she  drew 
the  balcony-chair  closer  beside  her,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  seating  herself  upon  it  when  an  upward  glance 
discovered  the  sudden  extinguishment  of  the  light  in  the 
senorita's  room. 

She  remained  in  an  upright  posture  a  moment  longer 
to  see  the  better.  In  her  eagerness  to  observe  closely 
she  leaned  upon  the  balcony-rail,  bending  over  it  and 
peering — believing,  and  at  the  same  time  fearing,  that 
Roberta  would  come  out  of  her  window  to  keep,  from 
her  balcony,  some  sort  of  a  tryst  with  Belknap,  and 
hoping  and  praying  at  the  same  time  that  she  was  mis- 
taken. 

All  unknown  to  her  as  she  bent  over  the  rail,  her 
handkerchief  slipped  from  beneath  her  sash  where  she 
had  tucked  it,  and  fluttered  to  the  ground;  and  being 
white  it  attracted  the  attention  of  two  pairs  of  eyes 
— with  a  widely  different  effect  upon  them. 

Belknap  had  not  seen  her  until  that  happened,  and 
in  another  moment  he  would  have  betrayed  his  purpose 
in  being  there,  and  therefore  would  have  informed  Bing 
of  the  fact  of  his  somewhat  intimate  acquaintance  with 


MIDNIGHT— AND  AFTER  87 

the  senorita — for  it  had  been  his  intention  to  call  her 
to  her  window  at  the  least. 

As  it  was,  he  abandoned  his  first  intention  for  an- 
other that  instantly  occurred  to  him. 

He  stepped  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  tree  precisely 
as  if  the  dropped  handkerchief  had  been  a  preconcerted 
signal  upon  which  he  might  act.  Within  a  second  he 
stood  directly  beneath  Katherine's  balcony,  and  with 
both  arms  outstretched  as  if  beseechingly  he  called 
softly : 

"Lady  Kate !    Katherine !" 

He  did  it,  let  us  say,  only  to  annoy  her,  to  trouble 
her,  to  anger  her,  and  to  give  her  an  added  proof  of 
his  power.  Perhaps  there  was  even  a  deeper  motive, 
but  that,  if  there  was  one,  has  not  yet  appeared. 

But — he  did  it ;  and  other  ears  than  Katherine's 
heard  him. 

For  an  interval  too  short  to  measure  by  ordinary 
standards — an  interval,  nevertheless,  in  which  Bingham 
Harvard  fought  desperately  to  control  himself,  and 
succeeded — Conrad  Belknap  was  never  so  near  to  death 
as  then,  and  doubtless  never  would  be  again  until  he 
met  it. 

Yet  Harvard  never  once  moved  a  muscle  of  his  Her- 
culean strength. 

He  stood  like  a  statue  in  stone,  and  as  hard  and 
frozen. 

He  saw  Belknap's  uplifted  arms,  as  if  the  man  were 
expecting  Katherine  to  leap  from  the  balcony  into 
them.  He  heard  Katherine  gasp — and  utterly  misun- 
derstood the  meaning  of  it.  He  saw  her  grasp  the  rail 
with  both  hands  and  for  just  an  instant  bend  her  body 
across  it,  as  if  to  speak  or  gesture.  He  saw  another 
white  thing,  like  an  envelope,  drop  into  Belknap's 


88  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

clutching  fingers,  and  he  heard  Belknap  speak  the  same 
two  names  again. 

"Katherine !  Lady  Kate !  Don't  go  away.  Wait.  I 
will  tell  you " 

But  she  was  gone  by  the  time  he  had  got  that  far 
and  had  disappeared  into  the  room  behind  her. 

Harvard  saw  it  all  and  misunderstood  it  all.  Who 
would  not? 

The  simple  truth  of  the  matter  was  that  Katherine, 
in  her  consternation  and  fright  at  being  discovered  by 
Belknap,  was  so  startled  that  as  she  attempted  to 
escape  into  the  house  she  tripped  upon  the  leg  of  the 
chair  that  she  had  drawn  forward  to  sit  on. 

Two  things  happened  as  a  natural  consequence. 

She  seized  the  rail  of  the  balcony  to  save  herself 
from  falling;  and  a  book  that  had  been  left  on  the 
chair  that  afternoon  was  dislodged  and  fell,  and  an 
old  letter  that  had  served  for  a  bookmark  dropped  out 
of  it  into  Belknap's  hands. 

Katherine  escaped  into  her  bedroom. 

Belknap's  teeth  shone  and  glittered  with  his  wolfish 
smile. 

Bingham  Harvard,  alias  the  Night  Wind,  waited 
among  the  shadows. 

That  night — and  after — seemed  to  be  replete  with 
surprises  for  everybody. 

Belknap's  wolfish  smile  still  lingered  upon  his  face, 
and  he  was  in  the  act  of  turning  away,  unaware  that 
a  grim,  silent,  implacable  man  of  superhuman  strength 
awaited  him  amid  the  deeper  shadows  when,  sibilant 
and  sharp  upon  the  night  air,  he  heard  a  call: 

"C.  B. !  Ce-e  Be-e !"  the  call  sounded  the  enunciation 
of  it  being  no  more  than  a  whisper,  although  the  sibi- 
lance  of  the  utterance  gave  it  a  penetrating  force  that 


MIDNIGHT— AND  AFTER  89 

carried  it  ever  to  the  ears  of  Harvard,  where  he  stood, 
twenty  or  thirty  yards  away,  waiting. 

The  sound  of  it  startled  him  and  relieved  the  tension 
of  his  attitude. 

His  instant  thought  was  that  Katherine  had  re- 
turned to  the  balcony,  but  one  swift  upward  glance  as- 
sured him  differently,  and  at  the  same  time  he  saw 
Belknap  start  and  turn  and  glance  upward  at  another 
window. 

Now,  Harvard  had  no  notion  regarding  the  location 
of  Senorita  Cervantez's  room.  That  was  a  household 
detail  to  which  he  paid  no  attention — the  rooming  of 
his  guests — and  in  the  darkness  he  had  not  the  least 
idea  of  the  identity  of  the  second  individual  to  appear 
that  night  in  another  balcony  scene. 

He  knew,  or  sensed,  or  believed,  that  it  was  a  woman 
who  had  called  to  Belknap — little  reckoning  that  in  do- 
ing so  she  had  perhaps  spared  his  miserable  life — not 
that  Harvard  had  formed  the  intention  of  killing  him 
actually;  but  he  had  been  awaiting  the  man  and — 

Belknap,  with  one  hasty  glance  at  Katherine's  win- 
dow, went  swiftly  toward  the  person  who  had  summoned 
him,  and  Harvard,  profoundly  mystified — and  pos- 
sibly more  than  ever  angered  because  such  happenings 
should  be  undertaken  at  Myquest — was  torn  by  a  thou- 
sand conflicting  emotions. 

Nevertheless,  he  did  not  change  his  position,  nor  at- 
tempt to  approach  nearer  to  the  woman  on  the  balcony 
and  the  man  beneath  it.  The  idea  of  listening  to  their 
clandestine  interview  did  not  occur  to  him,  for  in  point 
of  fact  his  mind  still  dwelt  upon  the  preceding  scene 
which  had  culminated  in  the  dropping  of  a  message  into 
Belknap's  outstretched  hands. 

Nor — notwithstanding  what  he  had  seen — was  he 
suspicious  of  Katherine.  He  had  no  thought  of  wilful 


90  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

wrongdoing  of  any  character  on  Katherine's  part.  The 
suggestion  of  such  a  thing  was  not  in  his  thought — 
but  the  scene  he  had  witnessed  was  no  less  strange,  and 
all  the  more  incomprehensible. 

While  he  thought,  and  he  thought  rapidly,  his  eyes 
followed  every  act  of  this  second  balcony  scene ;  he  saw 
Belknap  stop  beneath  it,  and  heard  his  voice  speaking, 
although  he  could  not  distinguish  the  words.  He  saw 
the  woman  bend  across  the  rail  and  put  the  fingers  of 
one  hand  to  her  lips,  while  with  the  other  one  she  ex- 
tended and  dropped — precisely  as  Katherine  had  done, 
Bingham  thought — something  white,  which,  no  doubt, 
was  also  a  message.  He  saw,  rather  than  heard,  the 
man  speak  again;  but  the  woman — who  could  she  be, 
he  wondered — shook  her  head  in  a  decided  negative, 
turned  abruptly  away,  and  disappeared  into  the  dark- 
ened room  behind  her. 

Again  he  heard  Belknap's  voice  and  the  utterances  as 
well — although  it  was  spoken  in  a  very  low  and  guarded 
tone. 

"Berta!  Berta!"  he  called  twice;  but  the  window 
remained  closed;  and  after  another  moment  of  wait- 
ing the  man  of  such  mysterious  actions  retreated  slow- 
ly to  the  shadow  of  the  same  tree  that  had  sheltered 
him  before. 

Harvard,  still  watching  in  utter  silence  and  as  mo- 
tionless as  a  statue  in  stone,  saw  the  flash  of  a  pocket- 
electric  and  then  a  faint  glow,  as  if  Belknap  was  en- 
deavoring to  conceal  the  light  while  he  read  his  mes- 
sages by  it. 

His  messages ! 

One  of  them  and  its  contents  did  not  concern  Har- 
vard in  the  least,  but  the  other  one  did,  and  he  de- 
termined then  and  there  to  possess  himself  of  it — of 


MIDNIGHT— AND  AFTER  91 

both,  in  fact,  since  he  would  have  no  method  of  differen- 
tiating between  them  in  the  darkness. 

It  was  then  that  he  began  to  move  stealthily  nearer 
to  Belknap  with  the  slow,  relentless,  absolutely  noise- 
less advance  of  a  leopard  that  creeps  without  sound 
upon  its  prey. 

The  sod  beside  the  pathway  was  as  soft  as  velvet. 
Harvard's  footfalls  were  as  light  and  transient  as  a 
globe  of  drifting  thistledown,  and  Belknap,  absorbed 
in  his  occupation,  had  no  suspicion  of  the  presence  of 
another  person  near  him. 

Bingham  Harvard's  superhuman  muscular  strength 
as  compared  to  that  of  the  ordinary  man,  might  be 
likened  to  the  average  man's  strength  as  compared  to 
that  of  a  little  child;  certain  it  was  that  Conrad  Bel- 
knap felt  like  a  child  in  the  grasp  of  the  hands  that 
seized  upon  him  without  warning,  as  if  they  had  reached 
out  of  the  black  shades  of  night  and  clutched  him. 

His  arms  were  pinioned  behind  him  so  suddenly  that 
the  articles,  three  in  all,  that  he  had  held  in  his  hands, 
fell  to  the  ground :  an  open  sheet  of  paper  covered  with 
writing  in  pencil,  an  envelope  that  had  passed  through 
the  mail  and  that  contained  something  within  it,  and  a 
small  pocket  flashlight. 

He  attempted  to  struggle  and  instantly  realized  the 
futility  of  it. 

The  person  who  had  seized  him  uttered  no  sound 
whatever ;  everything  that  was  done  was  carried  out  in 
utter  silence. 

Belknap's  arms,  drawn  quickly  and  forcibly  behind 
him,  were  held  together  at  the  wrists  by  the  grasping 
fingers  of  one  hand  of  his  captor,  while  his  own  hand- 
kerchief was  taken  from  his  coat-pocket  and  used  to 
bind  his  wrists  together. 

Once,  when  he  made  an  effort  to  turn  his  head  to  dis- 


92  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

cover  the  identity  of  the  man  who  had  attacked  him,  a 
hand  flew  to  his  throat  and  seized  it,  and  he  was  so 
powerfully  choked  for  a  moment  that  he  made  no 
further  effort  of  that  sort.  When  his  wrists  were  se- 
curely bound,  he  was  lifted  from  his  feet  and  lain,  face 
downward,  on  the  ground,  and  held  there  by  the  pres- 
sure of  a  knee  against  the  small  of  his  back  while  a 
second  handkerchief  was  tied  over  his  eyes. 

Up  to  then  Belknap  had  entertained  no  doubt  that 
the  man  who  attacked  him  was  Bingham  Harvard — and 
for  once  in  his  life  he  was  frightened,  realizing  his  dan- 
ger if  Harvard  had  witnessed  the  two  scenes  in  which 
he  had  so  lately  been  concerned. 

The  next  act  of  his  assailant  amazed  him- — ?and  it 
convinced  him,  also,  that  the  man  was  not  Harvard  but 
a  footpad  or  a  yegg,  who  had  caught  him  unawares 
while  wandering  in  the  shrubbery — which  was,  be  it 
said,  precisely  what  Harvard  wanted  him  to  think,  and 
exactly  why  Harvard  carefully  and  expeditiously  re- 
lieved him  of  everything  of  value  that  his  pockets  con- 
tained. 

Watch,  pocketbook,  loose  change,  stickpin — Har- 
vard took  everything  from  Belknap  that  was  worth  tak- 
ing exactly  as  a  footpad  or  a  disappointed  yegg  might 
have  done  it,  and  Belknap  was  the  more  readily  de- 
ceived because  he  had  never  seriously  believed  the  oc- 
casional reference  he  had  heard  to  Harvard's  wonder- 
ful strength  of  muscle. 

Then,  as  silently  as  the  robber  had  approached,  he 
went  away. 

Belknap  had  no  knowledge  of  his  going  until  he 
realized  that  he  was  alone. 

Alone,  prone  upon  the  ground,  face  downward,  blind- 
folded, and  with  his  wrists  tied  behind  his  back! 

But  his  feet  and  legs  were  free,  and  by  dint  of  great 


MIDNIGHT— AND  AFTER  93 

effort  he  managed  to  struggle  to  his  feet,  and  a  moment 
later  he  started  blindly  forward  in  search  of  the  path 
by  which  he  hoped  to  find  his  way  back  to  the  house. 

But  he  made  turns  in  the  wrong  direction ;  he  collided 
with  trees ;  thorns  penetrated  his  flesh  and  scratched  his 
face;  he  tripped  in  the  soft  loam  of  a  flower-bed  and 
fell — and  got  to  his  feet  again  and  went  on. 

Harvard,  in  the  meantime,  had  resumed  his  chair  on 
the  veranda,  and  was  waiting. 


CHAPTER  XII 

HARVARD'S  STRATEGY 

BINGHAM  HARVARD  did  some  serious  thinking  while 
he  awaited  the  coming  of  Conrad  Belknap  whom  he  had 
just  attacked.  He  did  not  doubt  that  the  man  would 
be  able  to  find  his  way  to  the  house  without  much  diffi- 
culty, blindfolded  and  with  his  hands  tied  behind  his 
back  though  he  was. 

Although  the  time  was  short  until  Belknap  staggered 
gropingly  into  view,  Harvard  was  able  to  review  the 
several  details  that  had  happened  during  the  past  ten 
days  to  disturb  and  annoy  him. 

He  recalled  again  the  scene  at  the  summer-house 
when  Belknap  was  supposed  to  have  received  a  message 
summoning  him  to  the  city ;  Katherine's  avoidance  and 
dislike  of  the  man  which  Harvard  believed  that  he  saw 
or  felt  plainly;  Tom  Clancy's  confessed  repugnance  of 
him,  and  the  ill-concealed  covert  watchfulness  with 
which  Tom  regarded  him;  the  short  scene  at  the  rose 
bower — nothing  at  all  of  itself,  yet  which  might  have  a 
distinct  meaning  in  its  relation  to  other  incidents — when 
theburningcigarettewas  tossed  from  it,  when  Katherine 
stepped  out  from  it  and  turned  in  the  path  to  speak 
again  to  the  man  inside  it — and  her  all-too-evident  per- 
turbation at  the  time;  her  very  plain  repression  of 
something  that  she  wanted  to  confide  to  her  husband 
that  night,  and  which  she  refrained  from  doing;  her 
midnight,  and  therefore  secret,  talk  over  the  telephone 

94 


HARVARD'S  STRATEGY  95 

that  same  night;  the  atmosphere  of  restraint  and  por- 
tending disaster  that  seemed  to  pervade  the  whole  place 
since  the  coming  of  Belknap;  the  anonymous  letter; 
and,  last,  more  disturbing  and  confounding  than  all  of 
the  other  incidents  put  together,  the  utterly  amazing 
and  astounding  incidents  that  he  had  just  witnessed. 

Throughout  all  of  it  not  one  thought  of  doubt  about 
Katherine's  motives  entered  Harvard's  mind;  not  once 
did  it  occur  to  him  to  question  her  conduct  or  to  con- 
demn it,  save  only  in  so  far  as  the  apparent  fact  that 
she  had  not  deemed  it  best  to  confide  in  him;  and  even 
for  that — when  he  thought  of  it — he  was  certain  that 
she  must  be  following  the  dictates  of  her  own  best 
judgment. 

It  was  not  until  he  saw — and  heard  also — Belknap's 
approach  that  he  remembered  that  he  carried  in  one 
of  his  coat-pockets  at  that  moment,  the  electric  flash- 
light and  the  two  written  messages  that  he  had  seen 
fall  from  the  balconies  into  Belknap's  hands,  and  that 
they  might,  and  doubtless  would,  disclose  some  of  the 
mystery. 

But  there  was  no  time  to  examine  them  just  then. 

Belknap  had  found  the  path  and  was  stumbling  along 
it  toward  the  veranda  where  Harvard  was  seated,  await- 
ing him. 

Bing  had  himself  thoroughly  in  hand  by  that  time; 
not  one  whit  of  the  blind  fury  that  had  gripped  him 
while  he  had  waited  for  Belknap  under  the  trees  re- 
mained. He  was  prepared  for  Belknap's  approach, 
and  he  received  it  as  naturally  as  if  it  had  been  in 
fact  a  surprise. 

He  started  from  the  chair  to  his  feet,  shoving  it  away 
from  him  so  that  it  scraped  noisily. 

"Hello,  there!"  he  called  out,  and  ran  forward  and 
down  the  steps  to  the  path,  and  so  met  the  sorry-look- 


96  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

ing  victim  of  his  controlled  rage  and  strength.  "What 
in  the  world — why!  is  it  you,  Belknap?  What  has 
happened?"  he  demanded,  with  exactly  the  right  de- 
gree of  stupefied  amazement;  and  without  waiting  a 
reply  he  began  at  once  to  remove  the  handkerchief  that 
covered  Belknap's  eyes.  (It  was  his  own,  it  may  be 
recalled,  and  although  there  was  no  mark  upon  it,  it 
would  be,  nevertheless,  readily  identified,  so  he  thrust 
it  into  one  of  his  own  pockets.)  Then  he  untied  the 
other  one,  releasing  Belknap's  hands — and  retained  pos- 
session of  that  one  also,  so  that  it  might  not  appear 
that  he  had  kept  only  one  of  them. 

He  seized  Belknap  by  the  arm  and  led  him  swiftly 
forward,  up  the  steps  into  the  house,  and  up  the  stairs 
to  Belknap's  own  quarters,  saying  sharply  as  he  did  so : 

"Don't  talk  now.  Something  has  happened  to  you, 
and  we  must  do  nothing  to  startle  the  people  in  the 
house.  Wait." 

The  man  was  a  sorry-looking  one,  indeed,  under  the 
glare  of  light  in  his  own  lavatory,  whither  Bing  piloted 
him;  his  face  was  scratched  and  bleeding  in  several 
places  from  contact  with  the  thorns  of  rose-bushes ;  his 
nose  was  plastered  with  loam  where  it  had  plowed  into 
the  flower-bed ;  one  of  his  trouser-legs  was  badly  torn  at 
the  knee;  his  collar  had  been  ripped  open,  and  his  tie 
was  twisted  around  so  that  the  knot  was  under  one  of 
his  ears ;  several  of  the  buttons  had  been  torn  from 
his  white  vest,  which  was  terribly  bedraggled  and  soiled. 

"You  look  as  if  you  had  been  through  a  threshing 
machine,  Belknap,"  Harvard  remarked,  secretly  enjoy- 
ing the  evidences  of  his  own  handiwork  and  its  conse- 
quences. "What  happened  to  you?" 

Belknap  had  done  some  thinking  also  while  so  pre- 
cariously making  his  way  back  to  the  house;  and  so, 
while  he  washed  away  the  marks  of  his  adventure,  he 


HARVARD'S  STRATEGY  97 

told  his  story — which  Harvard  naturally  accepted  as 
Hteral  truth,  and  was  proportionately  sympathetic.  He 
told  it  in  jerks  as  follows: 

"Standing  under  a  tree,  smoking — fellows,  chaps, 
footpads,  something  of  the  sort  came  up  behind  me — 
didn't  hear  a  sound — they  jumped  me  and  had  me 
down — before  I  knew  it — two  of  them;  maybe  three — 
tied  me  up  as  you  found  me — went  through  me,  too — 
took  everything — watch,  money,  stickpi —  By  Jove !" 
He  came  to  a  sudden  pause. 

"What's  the  matter?"  Harvard  asked  quietly. 

"H-m !  Just  remembered  that  I  had  a  letter ;  im- 
portant one,  too.  I  must  have  dropped  it.  I  say,  old 
chap,  wait  here,  will  you,  while  I  go  back  and  look  for 
it?  I — er — couldn't  afford  to  lose  that;  and  they 
wouldn't  have  taken  it." 

He  was  gone  before  Bing  could  reply,  but  the  latter 
called  after  him : 

"I'll  go  to  bed,  Belknap.  You're  all  right  now.  See 
you  in  the  morning.  Good  night." 

Thus,  while  Belknap  returned  to  the  scene  of  the  at- 
tack upon  him,  to  recover  the  two  objects  that  had  been 
dropped  to  him  from  two  balconies,  Harvard  sought  his 
own  room,  carrying  them  with  him  in  his  coat-pocket. 

So  many  things  happened  at  Myquest  that  night, 
and  happened  so  nearly  at  the  same  time,  that  it  is 
difficult  to  keep  them  in  mind  as  being  of  approximate 
simultaneousness. 

Betty  was  occupied  with  the  daguerreotype,  and  Tom 
was  engaged  upon  Rushton's  report,  while  Katherine 
was  preparing  for  bed,  and  Belknap  was  taking  his 
stroll  in  the  grounds,  to  be  followed  presently  by  his 
host.  Senorita  Cervantez,  also  restless,  was  at  the 
same  time  arriving  at  the  decision  that  she  must  have 
an  interview  with  Belknap  without  delay,  and  so  wrote 


98  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

a  hasty  note  to  him  as  soon  as  she  got  to  her  room — 
to  be  surreptitiously  delivered  at  the  first  opportunity 
that  offered;  and  having  done  that  she  turned  off  her 
light  and  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony  from  her  win- 
dow. 

She  did  not  do  that  quite  soon  enough  to  discover 
Katherine,  who  had  the  instant  before  disappeared  into 
the  darkness  of  her  own  room,  after  tripping  upon  the 
chair  and  so — without  knowing  it — dislodging  the  book 
which  caused  the  old  and  forgotten  letter  to  drop  down 
to  Belknap;  but  she  did  see  Belknap  beneath  Kath- 
erine's  balcony,  and  she  surmised  that  he  had  mistaken 
it  for  her  own ;  so  she  darted  back,  secured  the  message 
she  had  written,  hurried  outside  again  and  called  to  him 
in  that  sibilant  whisper. 

So  Katherine  did  not  discover  her,  and  she  did  not  see 
Katherine ;  and  she  was  much  too  wary  to  risk  the  use 
of  her  voice  even  then. 

Having  dropped  her  written  message  to  Belknap,  she 
retreated  with  almost  the  same  haste  that  Katherine 
had  employed,  with  the  difference  that  while  Katherine 
pulled  down  the  shades  and  snapped  on  the  lights,  Ro- 
berta came  to  a  stop  just  inside  of  her  window  and, 
concealed  by  the  darkness,  peered  outward,  watching 
Belknap. 

Thus  she  made  several  interesting  discoveries — and 
was  separately  and  severally  alarmed  by  each  of  them. 

She  saw  the  light  flare  into  being  in  Katherine's  room 
behind  the  white  but  opaque  shades,  remembered  that 
Belknap  had  stopped  beneath  that  balcony  instead  of 
her  own — and  asked  herself  if,  after  all,  he  had  made  a 
mistake,  as  she  had  at  first  supposed. 

She  saw  the  flash  of  Belknap's  electric,  and  watched 
him — and  then  she  saw  the  light  disappear,  and  dis- 
covered the  figure  of  another  man  struggling  with  him ; 


HARVARD'S  STRATEGY  99 

and  she  caught  her  breath,  frightened,  although  she 
made  no  move  whatever. 

Roberta  could  see  very  little  of  what  happened  in 
that  deep  shadow  beside  the  thick  balsam.  She  had  no 
idea  as  to  who  Belknap's  assailant  might  be,  or  why  he 
had  been  attacked;  but  she  was  conscious  of  an  insane 
joy  because  he  was  in  danger,  and  if  she  had  known  that 
his  life  was  at  stake,  she  would  not  have  lifted  so  much 
as  a  finger  to  save  him.  After  a  timfe  she  saw  one  of 
the  shadowy  figures  glide  swiftly  away,  and  the  other 
presently  get  to  its  feet  and  lurch  into  the  moonlight. 

She  recognized  Belknap  and  saw  that  he  was  blind- 
folded and  had  his  hands  tied  behind  him — and  she 
laughed ;  not  loudly,  but  with  intense  amusement  at  the 
chagrin  she  knew  him  to  be  experiencing;  and  then  she 
became  grave  again,  for  she  remembered  that  the  person 
who  had  attracted  him  must  have  seen  him  beneath  her 
window  and  have  witnessed  the  dropping  of  the  written 
message  from  her  balcony. 

That  suggested  a  complication  that  might  prove  por- 
tentous— if,  as  she  began  to  fear,  the  unknown  hap- 
pened to  be  an  inmate  of  the  house;  and  then  she 
started  violently  and  clasped  her  hands  together  as  she 
breathed  tensely  the  words: 

"Bingham  Harvard  himself !  The  Night  Wind !  Was 
it  he?  Could  it  have  been — I  wonder!" 

It  was  not  of  herself  that  she  thought  then,  but  of 
Katherine. 

If  the  man  were  Harvard,  he  must  have  seen  Belknap 
beneath  his  wife's  window,  and — what  might  not  be  his 
conclusions?  "Yet,"  she  mused  on,  unconsciously  ut- 
tering the  words  aloud:  "C.  B.  still  lives ;  he  is  alive — 
so — it  could  not  have  been  the  Night  Wind.  He  would 
have  crushed  C.  B.  into  a  pulp ;  he  would  have  torn  him 
apart  piecemeal  if  he  had  caught  him  beneath  Kath- 


100  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

erine  Harvard's  bedroom  window  at  this  hour  of  the 
night." 

She  looked  out  into  the  darkness  again. 

Both  of  the  men  had  gone,  and  she  stepped  out  upon 
the  balcony. 

The  light  was  still  glowing  in  Katherine's  window 
and  for  a  moment  Roberta  wished  that  there  were  a 
way  to  pass  from  one  balcony  to  the  other.  She  would 
have  gone  to  Katherine's  room  and  peered  into  it  had 
it  been  possible;  and  then  she  remembered  that  she  was 
still  dressed,  having  seated  herself  to  write  the  note  as 
soon  as  she  got  to  her  room. 

"Why  not  ?"  she  asked  herself,  meditating  upon  bold- 
ly seeking  Katherine's  room,  into  which  she  had  already 
several  times  penetrated  by  invitation  and  tapping  on 
the  door.  "I  will — yes,  I  will  pretend  that  I  saw  a  man 
prowling  in  the  gardens  below,  and  am  frightened,  and 
perhaps — that  is,  possibly — she  will  talk." 

So  without  turning  on  her  own  lights  she  went  out 
and  glided  like  a  spirit  toward  the  door  to  Katherine's 
bedroom. 

She  had  reached  it,  she  had  lifted  her  hand  to  rap 
upon  the  panel,  when  that  indefinable  sixth  sense  which, 
without  conscious  sound,  warns  us  of  the  nearness  of 
another  person,  made  her  withhold  her  hand ;  and  with 
the  same  impulse  she  sprang  away  from  the  door  and 
crouched,  hiding  behind  the  solid  back  of  one  of  the 
big  chairs  that  flanked  Katherine's  doorway  at  either 
side. 

Then  she  held  her  breath  in  startled,  half-frightened 
uncertainty. 

Approaching  swiftly  along  the  wide  hall,  arrayed  in 
negligee  and  with  slippered  feet,  and  with  something 
grasped  tightly  in  one  of  her  hands,  came  Betty;  and 


HARVARD'S  STRATEGY  101 

Betty's  errand  she  knew  was  probably  the  same  as  her 
own — to  make  a  midnight  call  on  Katherine. 

Betty,  she  well  knew,  had  a  habit  of  seeing  things; 
there  was  little  that  escaped  her. 

Discovery  was  almost  certain,  and  yet 


CHAPTER  XHI 

NIGHT-TIME   COMPLICATIONS 

INTENT  as  the  senorita  was  upon  observing  the  ap- 
proach and  preparing  herself  for  the  encounter,  she 
was  not  aware  that  a  third  person  had  appeared  upon 
the  scene  until  she  saw  Betty  stop,  hesitate,  dart  aside, 
seize  the  knob  of  the  door  that  was  nearest  to  her,  open 
the  door  swiftly,  and  disappear  beyond  it.  (Betty,  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind,  was  almost  as  much  at  home  in 
that  house,  and  quite  as  familiar  with  its  interior,  as 
was  Katherine  herself.  She  knew  what  rooms  were  oc- 
cupied and  what  were  not.) 

At  the  instant  when  Betty  passed  out  of  sight,  the 
senorita  became  aware  of  the  third  person,  and  she 
crouched  still  lower  behind  the  high-backed  chair  in  the 
dimly  lighted  hall. 

Belknap — for  it  was  he — was  walking  swiftly,  but 
stealthily. 

It  was  apparent  that  he  had  a  definite  purpose,  and 
the  watching  senorita  could  not  doubt  what  that  pur- 
pose was — an  interview  with  herself. 

Was  the  man  mad  to  attempt  such  a  thing?  To 
dare  to  approach  her  door  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
and  summon  her  to  it?  To  risk  the  betrayal  of  both 
— of  their  complicity? 

She  could  see,  when  he  went  past  her  hiding-place 
without  discovering  her,  the  marks  upon  his  face  where 
thorns  had  scratched  it,  and  she  noted  the  absence 
of  collar  and  tie  and  his  general  disheveled  appearance 

102 


NIGHT-TIME  COMPLICATIONS          103 

— and  also  she  believed  that  Betty  was  watching  him 
through  a  crack  of  the  doorway  of  the  room  in  which 
she  had  hidden  herself. 

Betty,  of  course,  could  see  the  man  go  to  Senorita 
Cervantez's  door  and — no  matter  what  was  destined  to 
happen  after  that — would  form  her  own  conclusions. 

Something  had  to  be  done,  and  done  at  once  to  offset 
them.  There  was  not  a  moment — not  an  instant — to 
be  wasted,  and  so 

The  senorita  darted  from  her  hiding-place  as  soon  as 
Belknap  had  passed  her.  She  seized  the  opportunity 
when  Betty  would  be  absorbed  in  watching  Belknap  and 
moved  the  chair  ever  so  little,  and  so  was  directly  at 
Katherine's  door.  She  pressed  her  body  closely  against 
it,  thankful  that  the  embrasure  of  it  was  almost  deep 
enough  to  conceal  her  unless  an  observer  stood  well 
out  into  the  hall. 

Then — not  too  loudly;  not  with  force  enough,  she 
hoped,  to  attract  the  attention  of  Betty,  who  was  con- 
cealed behind  a  door  that  was  nearly  tight-closed,  or 
of  Belknap,  whose  own  motion  and  footfalls  might  pre- 
vent him  from  hearing — she  tapped  against  the  panel. 

The  door  was  opened  instantly,  so  that,  pressing 
against  it  as  she  had  been,  the  senorita  literally  stum- 
bled into  the  room  and  against  Katherine,  who  had  been 
passing  it  at  the  moment  of  the  summons  and  had  pulled 
it  open  quickly. 

The  senorita  was  really  startled  into  the  appearance 
of  fright.  She  had  meant  to  play  the  part,  but  she 
did  not  need  to,  because  she  looked  it ;  and  yet  she  was 
none  the  less  cool,  resourceful  and  competent. 

She  gasped — in  that  whipering  manner  of  one  who 
is  without  voice ;  she  turned  like  a  flash,  seized  the  door, 
closed  it,  turned  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  leaned  against 
the  barrier  with  every  appearance  of  one  who  is  on  the 


104  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

point  of  utter  collapse.  Thus  she  succeeded  in  fright- 
ening Katherine  momentarily,  which  she  had  meant 
to  do. 

"Why,  senorita!     What " 

Katherine  got  no  farther,  for  Roberta  seized  her  by 
both  arms  an'd  clasped  her  tightly;  she  put  her  lips 
close  to  Katherine's  ear;  she  exclaimed,  in  that  breath- 
lessly faint  whisper  of  her  adoption: 

"Burglars !  Oh,  Mrs.  Harvard !  Burglars !  Thieves ! 
The  house  is  being  robbed!" 

Now,  Katherine  was — Katherine. 

She  had  no  more  terror  of  prospective  burglars  than 
of  crawling  bugs  and  worms  in  the  paths  outside;  and 
literally  she  did  not  believe  that  burglars  had  entered 
the  house.  She  only  thought  that  the  senorita  had 
been  unduly  frightened,  so  she  acted  in  a  perfectly  ra- 
tional manner:  she  put  Roberta  aside,  unlocked  the 
door  and  pulled  it  open — and  came  face  to  face  with 
Betty  Clancy,  who  had  just  at  that  instant  lifted  a 
hand  to  rap  against  it. 

Betty  was  looking  frightened,  too,  and  Katherine 
began  to  believe  that  there  were  burglars  in  the  house 
— and  Betty,  meanwhile,  could  not  see  Roberta,  who 
was  concealed  from  her  by  the  opened  door. 

Betty  was  holding  her  fingers  at  her  lips  to  enjoin 
silence.  She  did  not  attempt  to  enter  the  room;  in- 
stead, she  gasped  Katherine  by  one  arm  and  pulled  her 
partly  into  the  wide  hall — and  she  whispered  in  a  tone 
that  was  as  nearly  inaudible  as  the  senorita' s  had  been : 

"Look !" — and  she  pointed  down  the  hall.  "Do  you 
see  him?  He  is  at  the  door  of  Senorita  Cervantez's  room. 
He  is  rapping  upon  it.  Do  you  see  him,  Kitten? 
It's  Belknap— Conrad  Belknap,  I  tell  you?  What— 

Katherine  had  stepped  farther  into  the  hall,  and  at 


NIGHT-TIME  COMPLICATIONS          105 

that  instant  the  door  of  her  room  behind  her  slammed 
shut  with  a  loud  noise. 

A  draft  of  air  from  the  open  windows  might  have 
caused  it — but  it  didn't;  Roberta,  the  resourceful,  did 
it.  She  did  it  to  warn  Belknap — to  make  a  sound  that 
would  let  him  know  that  he  was  seen  and  watched — 
perhaps,  or  possibly,  to  prevent  him  from  proceeding 
farther  with  his  prowlings.  She  remembered  that  her 
own  door  was  not  locked,  and  she  knew  that  it  would  be 
quite  like  him,  when  he  received  no  response  to  his  rap- 
ping, to  turn  the  knob  and  open  it. 

Indeed,  he  had  done  that  very  thing  when  the  door 
somewhere  behind  him  slammed  and  warned  him. 

It  startled  him  so  that  he  left  the  door  in  front  of 
him  wide  ajar.  A  turn  of  his  head  apprised  him  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  seen.  The  two  figures  outside  the 
door  to  Katherine's  room  were  apparent. 

Belknap  knew  that  he  was  caught  and  that  it  would 
require  every  whit  of  his  wit  and  skill  and  effrontery  to 
get  him  out  of  the  dilemma, 

Katherine  had,  in  her  turn,  taken  Betty  by  the  arm. 
She  had  moved  a  step  forward  down  the  hall  toward 
Belknap,  and  Betty  was  holding  back  a  little,  reluctant 
to  follow.  Both  were  astounded,  but  for  different  rea- 
sons ;  for  Katherine  knew  what  Betty  did  not :  that 
Belknap  and  the  senorita  were  confederates. 

Just  then  both  of  them  were  amazed  anew  by  Bel- 
knap's  actions. 

He  seemed  to  be  groping  with  searching  hands  along 
the  wall.  He  moved  away  from  the  door  at  which  he 
had  been  rapping  and  drew  nearer  to  them;  and  al- 
though they  were  by  then  plainly  in  view,  he  seemed  not 
to  see  them. 

They  both  stood  very  still  watching  him.     The  door 


106  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

behind  them  opened  by  a  crack,  and  Roberta  peered  into 
the  hall,  but  neither  of  them  knew  it. 

Belknap  came  nearer  and  nearer  to  them  gropingly, 
feeling  with  his  uplifted  hands  along  the  wall.  His  eyes 
were  wide  open  and  staring,  and  he  acted  like  one  who 
is  in  a  trance,  or  who  walks  in  one's  sleep ;  and  Betty, 
pressing  her  lips  close  against  Katherine's  ear,  whis- 
pered: 

"Kitten!  He's  walking  in  his  sleep!  And  look  at 
him!  He  has  had  a  fall.  His  face  is  scratched 
and " 

Katherine  disengaged  herself  from  Betty's  grasp  and 
went  swiftly  to  Belknap. 

She  was  not  deceived,  although  she  believed  that  Bet- 
ty was. 

She  seized  him  and  shook  him,  and  he  came  "awake" 
with  a  shudder  and  a  half-inarticulate  cry.  It  was  sur- 
prisingly well  done — amazingly  well  acted;  and  he  be- 
lieved that  he  had  fooled  both  of  them. 

Katherine  was  astounded  by  his  condition,  his  torn 
clothing,  his  scratched  and  blood-marked  face,  the  ab- 
sence of  collar  and  tie,  his  soil-stained  garments,  his 
torn  trouser-leg.  He  had  been  immaculate  at  dinner 
and  throughout  the  evening ;  he  had  seemed  to  be  so  still 
when  she  had  seen  him  beneath  her  balcony;  but  since 
then  something  untoward  had  happened  to  the  man. 

For  a  moment  she  was  almost  deceived  into  the  belief 
that  he  had  wandered  into  that  part  of  the  house  with- 
out knowing  what  he  was  doing;  she  might  have  been 
entirely  deceived  about  it  if  he  had  been  wise  enough  to 
continue  his  play-acting  instead  of  "coming  awake"  as 
he  did  when  she  grasped  him  and  shook  him. 

"Great  Caesar!"  he  half  gasped.  "Where  am  I? 
What  has  happened?  What " 

"You  had  better  go  to  your  room,  Mr.  Belknap," 


NIGHT-TIME  COMPLICATIONS          107 

Katherine  said  coldly,  interrupting.  "You  are  dis- 
turbing the  household  by  wandering  in  the  halls  and 
rapping  at  doors.  Come,  Betty." 

"Wait,"  said  Belknap.    "I  want  to " 

"Good  night,  Mr.  Belknap,"  Katherine  interrupted 
again.  She  was  already  at  her  door. 

She  opened  it,  drew  Betty  into  the  room  with  her, 
and  closed  it,  and  so  left  Belknap  standing  alone  in 
the  hall  with  his  sleep-walking  act  half  done,  with  his 
suddenly  assumed  subterfuge  of  doubtful  success. 

Meanwhile  Betty  was  encountering  another  surprise, 
for  inside  of  Katherine's  room,  huddled  in  the  depths  of 
a  big  arm-chair  and  apparently  trembling  with  fright, 
was  the  senorita,  who,  the  moment  they  appeared, 
sprang  out  of  it  and  faced  them  timorously. 

Her  lips  formed  words.  She  seemed  to  try  to  speak 
— and  to  fail;  but  she  managed  to  make  them  both 
understand  that  she  was  trying  to  ask  Betty  if  she 
had  also  heard  and  seen  the  burglars. 

Betty,  by  the  way,  still  clutched  the  old-fashioned 
case  that  contained  the  daguerreotype  picture  of  her 
great-grandmother,  and  the  presence  of  the  senorita 
in  Katherine's  room  brought  to  mind  her  own  reason 
for  being  there. 

While  Katherine  was  reassuring  the  senorita  and 
explaining  that  the  supposed  burglar  was  nothing 
more  than  one  of  the  guests  walking  in  his  sleep,  Betty 
hesitated;  then,  with  an  impulse  born  of  the  moment, 
she  extended  the  three-generations-old  likeness  toward 
its  living  replica  and  said  quietly : 

"Look,  senorita,  and  see  what  I  have  found,  then 
tell  me  if  you  can  guess  who  it  resembles.  I  had  in- 
tended to  show  it  to  Katherine  first,  but — it  would  seem 
to  be  your  privilege — don't  you  think?" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  SCREAM AND  THREE  SHOTS 

BEAR  in  mind  the  fact  that  the  senoiita  was  still 
dressed  exactly  as  she  had  been  throughout  the  evening ; 
Betty  and  Katherine  were  the  only  ones  at  that  im- 
promptu gathering  in  negligee,  and  Betty  explained 
even  while  she  passed  the  daguerreotype  to  the  pianiste, 
that  she  had  sought  Katherine's  room  at  that  late  hour 
only  on  impulse,  and  with  the  thought  that  the  latter 
might  not  yet  have  extinguished  her  lights. 

Roberta  received  the  closed  and  hooked  gutta-percha 
case  into  her  hand  wonderingly ;  but  ever  on  the  alert, 
she  prepared  herself  instantly  for  whatever  disclosure 
was  to  follow;  and  she  knew  that  there  must  be  one  of 
some  sort,  else  Betty  Clancy  would  not  have  sought 
Katherine's  room  at  that  hour  of  the  night  to  show 
her  the  daguerreotype. 

Nevertheless,  she  could  not  hide  her  amazement  when 
she  opened  the  case  and  looked  upon  the  picture  of  a 
young  woman  so  exactly  like  herself  save  in  the  fashion 
of  coiffure  and  style  of  dress  that,  barring  the  lapse 
of  approximately  three-quarters  of  a  century  since  it 
was  made,  she  herself  might  have  "sat  for  it." 

Roberta  could  not  have  concealed  her  astonishment 
had  she  tried,  and  she  made  no  attempt  to  do  so. 
Curiosity,  intense  and  absorbing,  outweighed  discretion 
had  there  been  need  for  it;  but  she  did  not  forget  to 
remain  speechless. 

108 


A  SCREAM— AND  THREE  SHOTS       109 

She  seized  upon  her  tablets  and  wrote: 

"Wonderful!  Who  was  she?  Please  tell  me  all  that 
you  know  about  her." 

Katherine,  who  had  been  peering  over  the  senorita's 
shoulder,  exclaimed  enigmatically  before  Betty  could 
reply  to  the  written  words : 

"How  strange!  Yes,  and  wonderful.  I  understand 
now,  senorita,  why,  ever  since  you  came  to  Myquest, 
your  face  has  reminded  me  of  another  one  which  I  could 
not  bring  to  mind ;  but  I  know  now.  Betty,  my  father 
has  an  old  daguerreotype  portrait  of  that  same  face.  It 
was  made,  I  think,  some  years  later  than  this  one. 
She  was " 

"Wait,  please,"  Betty  interjected;  then  she  turned 
again  to  the  senorita. 

"I  have  quite  a  collection  of  daguerreotype  pictures," 
she  said,  "and  a  list  of  them  in  my  grandmother's 
handwriting  with  the  dates  when  they  were  made.  That 
is  a  picture  of  my  great-grandmother.  It  was  made 
on  the  17th  of  June,  1845 — seventy-two  years  ago ;  and 
on  the  day  before  she  was  married,  which  happened  on 
her  twentieth  birthday.  The  picture  that  Katherine 
refers  to  was  made  a  year  or  two  afterward ;  I  haven't 
the  date  of  that  one;  but  the  reason  why  Katherine's 
family  also  has  a  picture  of  her  is  because  Katherine's 
great-grandfather  and  my  great-grandmother  were 
brother  and  sister.  So,  you  see,  by  collateral  descent, 
Katherine  and  I  are  third  cousins. 

"We  have  always  known  that,  senorita"  she  went 
on  after  the  slightest  of  pauses,  during  which  the  others 
were  silent.  "My  great-grandmother  was  a  Maxwilton, 
and  the  great-aunt  of  Katherine's  father — Katherine's 
great-great-aunt.  So,  now,  what  I  would  like  to  know 
is:  Where  do  you  come  in?  It  goes  without  saying 
that  you  belong.  There  is  Maxwilton  blood  in  your 


110  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

veins — there  must  be,  or —  "  She  stopped  for  lack  of 
ideas  to  go  on.  Then  impulsively  she  cried  out  as  she 
went  forward  and  peered  into  the  eyes  of  Senorita  Cer- 
vantez : 

"Are  you  another  third  cousin?  Are  you,  some- 
where in  the  past,  a  Maxwilton,  or  a  Keese?  That  was 
my  name  before  I  was  married  to  Tom  Clancy.  Is 
Cervantez  your  really-truly  name,  senorita,  or  is  it 
just  a  professional  name?  Yet  you  speak  Spanish,  for 
I  heard  Mme.  Savage  talking  it  to  you,  and  saw  that 
you  replied  to  her  with  your  pencil  and  tablets.  My 
goodness  gracious !  How  I  have  been  rattling  on  and 
never  giving  anybody  else  a  chance  to  put  in  a  word." 

Roberta  had  grown  pale  and  paler  while  Betty  talked. 

Neither  she  nor  Katherine  had  noticed  it,  being  more 
intent  upon  the  problem  than  with  the  object  of  it; 
but,  with  Betty's  closing  remark,  Roberta  got  slowly 
to  her  feet  from  the  chair  upon  which  she  had  dropped 
when  the  picture  was  shown  to  her. 

She  still  held  it  in  her  grasp  tightly,  as  if  in  dread 
that  it  might  be  taken  from  her,  and  she  seemed  dazed— 
as  indeed  she  was  by  the  revelations  and  the  mysteries 
that  were  a  part  of  them. 

Her  lips  parted  as  if  to  speak,  but  she  remembered 
in  time  and  closed  them.  She  was  groping  for  her 
tablets  with  wandering,  uncertain  fingers  when  Kath- 
erine put  her  arms  around  her  and  drew  her  into  a 
close  and  fond  embrace. 

"It  doesn't  matter  who  you  are,  dear,"  she  said. 
"Whether  you  are  a  Maxwilton  or  a  Keese  or  if  the 
wonderful  resemblance  to  the  old  portrait  is  only  an 
accident,  the  fact  remains  that  you  are  here,  and  that 
we  are  both  fond  of  you ;  that  I  am  certainly.  And," 
she  added,  with  another  thought,  "I  am  not  going  to 


A  SCREAM— AND  THREE  SHOTS        111 

let  you  go  away,  Monday,  as  planned.  I  will  see  to 
that." 

Roberta  let  go  of  the  tablets  which  she  had  found  and 
grasped.  She  whispered  into  Katherine's  ear: 

"I — I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Mrs.  Harvard ; 
nothing  at  all.  It  is  all  a  mystery  to  me.  I  am  dazed, 
excited,  speechless,  thoughtless.  It  is  all  so  wonderful 
— so  overwhelming.  May  I — may  I  go  to  my  room 
now?  And  may  I  take  the  likeness  with  me,  please? 
I  want  to  study  it;  I  want  to  think  about  it.  Please 
let  me  take  it." 

Katherine  repeated  the  substance  of  what  she  said 
to  Betty. 

"Of  course  you  can  take  the  picture,"  Betty  an- 
nounced ;  and  then  they  both  kissed  her  good  night,  and 
she  left  the  room. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  Betty  demanded  of  Katherine 
after  she  had  gone. 

Katherine  shook  her  head. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  replied.  "I  will  ask  my  father 
about  it.  He  has  got  the  entire  Maxwilton  genealogy 
tucked  away  in  his  head,  ever  ready  for  instant  refer- 
ence. He  will  be  likely  to  know ;  or,  if  not  that,  he'll  be 
more  likely  to  know  how  to  make  guesses  about  it  than 
we  are." 

Betty  kissed  Katherine  good  night.  She  started  for 
the  door,  and  stopped  half-way  to  it. 

"Katherine?"  she  began. 

"Yes?    What  now,  Betty?" 

"Do  you  think  that  Mr.  Belknap  might  have  known 
the  senorita  somewhere,  sometime,  before  he  met  her 
here?" 

"What  a  question!     Why?" 

"I  have  heard  that  when  people  walk  in  their  sleep 
they  follow  out  ideas  that  were  predominant  before 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

they  went  to  sleep.  And — and,  honestly,  Kitten,  I 
don't  believe  he  was  asleep  any  more  than  I  am  now." 

"Why,  Betty!" 

"You  just  wait  a  moment.  I  saw  him  before  I  came 
into  this  room.  I  was  on  my  way  to  find  out  if  you 
were  still  up  and  to  show  you  that  picture.  I  saw 
him  in  the  hall  and  dodged  into  the  room  that  Bing  al- 
ways reserves  for  Mr.  Chester.  I  peeked  out  when  he 
passed  the  door  and  saw  him  plainly,  and  if  ever  any- 
body was  wide  awake  in  this  world,  he  was.  He  was 
scowling  and  showing  his  teeth,  and  as  mad  as  a 
bear  with  a  sore  paw.  Asleep?  I  reckon  not!  And 
he  went  as  straight  to  the  senorita's  door  as  a  shot  out 
of  a  gun.  He  rapped  on  it,  too ;  and  kept  on  rapping, 
just  as  if  he  had  a  right  to  do  it;  or,  if  not  that,  as  if 
he  knew  that  he  could  make  her  answer  him,  whether 
she  wanted  to  or  not.  And  I  was  scared  out  of  my 
wits  when  I  sneaked  along  the  hall  to  this  door,  afraid 
that  he  would  see  me ;  but  he  didn't ;  and  you  could  have 
knocked  me  down  with  a  cobweb  when  I  found  the 
senorita  here.  And,  Kitten " 

"Well,  dear?" 

" While  I  am  on  the  subject,  there  is  something  else 
that  I  want  to  say:  Tom  doesn't  like  the  man,  and  I 
don't  either.  Tom  has  put  Rodney  Rushton  onto  his 
track,  and " 

"What?"  Katherine  cried  out. 

"Well,  what  of  it?  He  has,  anyhow,  whether  you 
like  it  or  not.  Tom  thinks  that " 

A  wild  cry,  like  the  scream  of  a  banshee,  instantly 
followed  by  three  pistol-shots  in  rapid  succession,  in- 
terrupted her,  and  both  young  women  stood  spellbound 
and  frightened. 

"They  came  from  outside — from  the  gardens — 
didn't  they?"  Katherine  asked  breathlessly. 


A  SCREAM— AND  THREE  SHOTS        113 

"I  wonder,"  Betty  said,  "if  Belknap  went  back  to  the 
senorita's  room  to  wait  for  her?" 

The  wild  scream  and  the  pistol-shots  that  followed 
it  momentarily  paralyzed  every  energy  that  Katherine 
and  Betty  possessed,  coming  upon  them  as  it  did  at  the 
moment  when  they  were  about  to  part  for  the  night. 

But  the  effect  of  them  lasted  only  for  a  moment. 
Both  of  the  young  women  recovered  their  self-pos- 
session instantly,  and  each  of  them  was  courageous, 
resourceful,  and  quick  to  act. 

They  were  close  to  the  door  into  the  hall  when  the 
cry  and  the  shots  startled  them.  Katherine  reached 
out  and  punched  the  black  button  of  the  electric  switch, 
extinguishing  the  lights  in  the  room;  then  she  darted 
across  it  to  the  window  and  out  upon  the  balcony — for 
she  was  convinced  that  the  sounds  proceeded  from  with- 
out the  house,  and  believed  that  they  were  not  far  from 
her  window. 

Betty  Clancy  seized  upon  the  door,  opened  it,  and 
sprang  into  the  hall — for  she  was  equally  convinced 
that  the  sounds  came  from  within  the  house;  that  is 
to  say,  both  acted  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
without  thought. 

Each  of  them  was,  in  part,  right. 

Katherine,  as  cool  as  ever  she  had  been  in  the  old 
days  of  her  police  experiences,  was  quickly  outside  on 
the  balcony,  and  bending  over  the  rail  of  it,  peering 
eagerly  this  way  and  that;  and  she  saw — or  thought 
that  she  saw,  not  being  entirely  certain — the  outlines  of 
a  human  figure  as  it  darted  into  entire  obscurity  be- 
neath the  shadows  of  the  trees  at  the  edge  of  the  lawn. 
And  that  was  all. 

Betty,  as  she  literally  jumped  into  the  hall  from 
Katherine's  room,  saw  nothing  at  first.  But  doors  were 
pulled  open,  timid  and  shrinking  guests  appeared  as  if 


114.  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

by  magic,  frightened  figures  of  women  and  the  startled 
and  questioning  visages  of  the  men,  materialized  from 
every  direction,  for  the  alarm  had  been  one  that  was 
not  to  be  ignored.  It  was  not  the  sort  of  thing  that 
one  hears  vaguely  in  sleep  when  one  wonders  even 
more  vaguely  about  the  cause  and  rolls  over  into  sleep 
again ;  it  was  of  the  character  that  compels  a  person  to 
sit  up  and  take  notice. 

Bing  Harvard  came  into  Katherine's  room  from  his 
own  just  as  she  reappeared  from  the  balcony.  He 
snapped  on  the  lights  while  she  crossed  from  the  win- 
dow toward  him,  and  she  noticed  instantly,  but  without 
betraying  her  surprise  because  of  it,  that  save  for  the 
fact  that,  he  was  without  a  coat,  he  was  dressed  pre- 
cisely as  he  had  been  at  dinner  that  evening. 

His  quick  questions  also  surprised  her. 

"Was  any  one  here  with  you?"  he  demanded. 

"Betty  was  here.  We  were "  she  began.  He  in- 
terrupted her. 

"Anybody  else?" 

"No,  not  just  now,  when  we  heard  the  shots.  The 
senorita  had  been  here  earlier,  but  she  had  gone.  Why 
— there  is  Betty  now !"  For  Betty  had  reappeared  at 
the  door. 

"Come!"  Betty  called  to  them  from  the  doorway. 
"Oh,  Bing !  I'm  so  glad  that  you're  here.  They  say — 
out  there — that  it  came  from  Mme.  Savage's  room." 

Bingham  and  Katherine  followed  Betty  into  the  hall. 

They  found  that  a  group  had  already  collected  in 
the  corridor  near  the  entrance  to  the  suite  occupied 
by  Mme.  Savage  and  her  maid,  and  that  a  hush  had 
fallen  upon  those  who  were  gathered  there. 

The  cause  of  it  was  at  once  apparent,  for  the  un- 
mistakable sounds  of  a  woman  sobbing  could  be  heard 
from  beyond  the  door,  and  mingled  with  it  were  the 


A  SCREAM— AND  THREE  SHOTS       115 

sharp  tones  of  Madame 's  deep  voice,  almost  masculine, 
in  timbre. 

Harvard  tapped  upon  the  panel,  and  madame's 
voice  bade  him  enter. 

The  old  lady  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  and  she  held  in 
her  right  hand  a  small  automatic  pistol  with  which  she 
had  been  gesticulating  while  she  talked  to  her  frightened 
and  sobbing  maid  who  stood  facing  her  across  the  foot- 
board, grasping  it  with  both  hands. 

Mme.  Savage  was  a  very  old  lady,  it  must  be  re- 
membered ;  a  very  young-old  lady,  with  eighty  years  or 
thereabouts  to  her  credit,  but  as  youthful  as  ever  she 
had  been,  in  spirit  and  thought,  and  in  her  outlook 
upon  life.  Nor  was  she  one  who  had  resorted  to  arti- 
ficial devices  to  keep  herself  young;  her  natural  buoy- 
ancy, and  her  ardent  love  of  being  in  the  middle  of 
"something  doing"  had  done  that. 

"Come  in!  Come  in!"  she  called  out  when  she  dis- 
covered the  group  at  her  door,  headed  by  Harvard. 
"I'm  not  a  bit  afraid  to  be  seen  in  bed  by  all  of  you.  I 
don't  wear  a  wig,  nor  do-up  my  face  and  neck  in  an 
enameling-mask  when  I  retire.  My  goodness,  Bing,  did 
I  wake  up  the  whole  household?" 

"Naturally.  Have  you  been  practising  at  a  target, 
madame,  or  were  you  shooting  at  your  maid?  And,  if 
I  may  inquire,  where  did  you  get  the  pistol?"  Harvard 
was  smiling  as  he  put  the  questions,  for  he  was  reas- 
sured. It  had  only  been  a  scare  after  all,  he  was  think- 
ing. 

Madame  replied  to  the  last  question  first. 

"Where  did  I  get  it?"  she  retorted.  "I've  always  had 
it.  Not  this  one,  of  course,  but  a  pistol  of  some  kind. 
I'm  not  used  to  this  new  fangled  contraption  yet,  and  I 
shot  three  times  when  I  only  meant  to  shoot  once." 

"But,  my  dear  lady,  "what  did  you  shoot  at?" 


116  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"A  man.  There  were  two  of  them,  or  a  man  and  a 
woman.  I  think  that  I  must  have  winged  one  of  them 
at  that.  You  see " 

Betty  interrupted  impulsively. 

"But  the  scream!"  she  exclaimed.  "That  came  be- 
fore the  pistol-shots." 

"Oh !  That  Nistine  is  a  ninny ;  she  is  always  scared 
at  her  own  shadow.  It  was  she  who  did  the  screaming. 
That  is  what  I  was  scolding  her  about,  and  why  she 
is  sobbing  now,  just  like  a  scared  child." 

"But,  madame,  how  did  it  happen?  What  did  hap- 
pen?" Bing  asked. 

"I  was  reading  myself  to  sleep — I  always  do  that, 
you  know ;  it's  a  habit  I've  had  for  sixty  years ;  and 
Nistine  was  sound  asleep  in  that  chair  by  the  window. 
I  heard  a  noise  and  looked  around  and  saw  Nistine 
jump  to  her  feet;  and  there  was  a  man — I  could  just 
see  his  head  and  shoulders — climbing  in  at  the  window. 
He  had  a  handkerchief  or  something  tied  across  the 
lower  part  of  his  face.  You  see,  only  this  reading- 
light  was  turned  on,  and  he  must  have  thought  that  I 
was  asleep  with  a  night-light  burning,  or  he  wouldn't 
have  tried  to  climb  in. 

"Well,  anyhow,  Nistine  let  out  that  scream  you  heard 
and  jumped,  and  when  she  jumped  she  caught  her 
foot  in  something  and  fell.  But  in  the  mean  time  I 
was  reaching  under  my  pillow  for  this.  When  Nistine 
fell  and  was  out  of  the  way,  I  let  drive  at  him,  and 
the  thing  went  off  three  times  instead  of  once.  I  guess 
maybe  that  night-prowler  didn't  know  that  my  father 
and  my  husband  were  both  cattle-kings  in  the  South- 
west, and  that  I  learned  how  to  use  a  gun  at  the  same 
time  I  learned  to  read  a  primer.  I  always  sleep  with 
one  of  them  under  my  pillow,  and  I  always  carry  one 
in  my  hand-bag  with  my  book  and  lace-needles  when  I 


A  SCREAM— AND  THREE  SHOTS        117 

travel.  It's  the  habit  of  a  lifetime;  and,  besides,  this 
isn't  the  first  effort  that  burglars  and  porch-climbers 
have  made  to  get  my  diamonds  away  from  me. 

"That's  the  whole  story,  so — No  it  isn't,  either.  I 
jumped  out  of  bed  and  went  to  the  window,  and  I  saw 
two  figures  disappear  among  the  trees,  and  one  of  them 
either  wore  a  long  raincoat — which  isn't  likely,  for  it's 
not  raining-: — or  was  a  woman  and  wore  a  dress.  That 
is  all.  I  didn't  shoot  again  because  they  got  out  of  my 
sight  too  soon.  But  I'll  tell  you  this  much :  one  of  them, 
the  one  that  I'm  sure  was  not  a  woman,  acted  as  if  I'd 
winged  him,  and  I've  seen  too  many  men  shot  not  to 
know  pretty  well  when  they're  hit.  Now,  will  you  do  me 
the  favor  to  send  all  of  these  people  out  of  my  room? 
Those  burglars  had  probably  heard  that  I  was  down 
here  at  your  place  and  figured  it  out  that  it  would  be 
a  swell  chance  for  them  to  get  my  jewels.  They've  been 
hot-foot  after  my  diamond-rope  ever  since  that  foolish 
Sunday  newspaper  printed  a  picture  of  it  and  told  what 
it  is  worth.  But  they  won't  get  it,  Bing  Harvard !  Not 
while  I'm  alive,  and  I  expect  to  be  on  earth  a  good 
many  years  yet.  And,  Bingham,  come  nearer.  I  want 
to  whisper  to  you.  Now,  listen :  I  think — I  don't  know, 
but  I  think — that  I  could  make  a  good  guess  about 
that  chap  that  I  did  not  hit.  He  moved  just  like — er 
— somebody  I  know.  But  I'll  tell  you  about  that  in 
the  morning." 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY 

THE  impromptu  gathering  dispersed;  the  startled 
guests  departed  to  their  several  rooms  after  Harvard 
had  pooh-poohed  any  idea  of  a  search  of  the  grounds 
of  Myquest  that  night. 

He  followed  his  wife  into  her  room  and  closed  the 
door,  and  was  at  the  point  of  passing  on,  through  it, 
to  his  own,  without  comment  upon  the  excitement  that 
had  just  passed,  and  its  cause,  when  she  stopped  him. 

"Bingham,"  she  said. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  and  wheeled  about  and  went  back 
to  her. 

She  reached  out  and  rested  her  hands  on  his 
shoulders,  then  she  cuddled  her  face  close  against  his 
neck  and  sighed  contentedly;  and  yet  it  was  a  sigh 
that  was  much  too  deeply  drawn  to  express  merely  con- 
tent. There  was  repression  in  it,  too,  for  she  had  in- 
tended, when  she  called  to  him  to  stop,  to  tell  him 
everything,  but  in  the  barely  perceptible  moment  that 
intervened  had  changed  her  mind. 

How  she  wished,  in  that  instant,  that  she  had  told 
him  all  about  her  brother  Roderick,  long,  long  ago ;  for 
there  was  not,  nor  had  there  been,  anything  about  the 
circumstances  of  Roderick's  past,  or  in  connection  with 
his  supposed  death  and  burial,  which  Katherine  had 
need  to  hide  from  her  husband.  She  had  not  told  him, 
because  it  had  always  seemed  so  unnecessary  to  recall 

118 


A  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY  119 

the  dark  and  heart-rending  chapter  in  her  life,  or  to 
harass  Bingham  by  a  recital  of  it. 

Her  reticence  was  not  the  consequence  of  any  re- 
luctance to  confide  the  whole  truth  about  Roderick  to 
Bingham,  for  if  Conrad  Belknap  had  been  elsewhere, 
and  temporarily  beyond  her  husband's  reach,  there 
would  have  been  none  at  all;  but  she  knew  as  well  as 
she  had  knowledge  of  anything,  what  Bing  would  do 
to  the  card-sharper  if  he  was  made  aware  of  the  things 
that  Belknap  had  done,  and  of  the  threats  the  man  had 
uttered  since  his  arrival  at  Myquest.  She  knew  that  the 
Night  Wind  would  be  unleashed  again,  as  it  had  been 
during  those  terrible  days  of  the  frame-up  when  he 
had  been  hunted  and  hounded  like  a  felon,  for  a  crime 
committed  by  another. 

Above  all  things  else  in  Katherine's  mind  was  the 
dread  that  her  father  and  mother  might  discover  that 
their  son  did  not  lie  buried  in  that  grave  in  Kentucky 
that  was  marked  with  his  name;  that  the  dead  still 
lived;  that  Roderick  Maxwilton  had  not  expiated  his 
misdeeds  with  his  life — and  any  violence  on  Bingham's 
part  toward  Belknap  must  inevitably  lead  to  such  an 
exposure. 

So,  in  that  interval  of  a  second,  while  Bing  returned 
to  her  and  she  clung  to  him,  with  her  head  on  his  breast, 
the  impulse  to  tell  him  everything  passed. 

Harvard  waited  for  her  to  speak,  but  when  she  re- 
mained silent  he  asked: 

"What  is  it,  dear?    Is  something  troubling  you?" 

"N-no,"  she  replied. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  about  that,  Katherine?" 

"Of  course.     I  am  only — babyish." 

"That  is  not  like  you." 

"N-no.  But,  then,  we  are  not  always  immune  from 
nervous  shocks,  are  we,  Bingham?" 


120  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

He  did  not  reply  to  the  question.  Instead,  he  asked 
one,  with  a  glance  as  he  did  so,  toward  her  bed  that 
had  not  been  occupied. 

"Why  had  you  not  gone  to  bed,  Katherine?" 

"I  had  callers,  as  I  told  you,"  she  replied.  "The 
senorita,  and  Betty." 

"What  errands  did  they  have,  at  such  an  hour,  to 
bring  them " 

Katherine  brightened,  and  lifted  her  head  as  she 
interrupted  him. 

"That  reminds  me,"  she  said,  speaking  rapidly — for 
she  did  not  wish  to  be  questioned  too  closely  about  the 
things  that  had  happened  after  she  had  said  good  night 
to  her  husband.  "The  senorita  must  have  seen  or 
heard  the  same  burglars  that  disturbed  Mme.  Savage. 
She  was  badly  frightened  when  she  came  in.  She  had 
seen  somebody  prowling  about  outside  of  the  house — a 
man,  or  some  men,  under  the  trees,  I  think." 

"Was  that  what  you  wished  to  tell  me  about  when 
you  called  me  back  just  now?"  Bing  asked  her;  and 
when  she  hesitated  for  a  reply,  he  added :  "There  was 
something  that  you  wanted  to  tell  to  me,  wasn't  there, 
Katherine?" 

"There  is  something  that  I  want  to  ask  you,  dear," 
she  answered,  evading  his  question,  and  believing  that 
he  did  not  notice  that  she  did  so,  although  he  was  aware 
of  it,  and  disturbingly  so. 

"Yes?"  he  replied,  noncommittally. 

"Do  you  think  that  it  would  be  possible" — (the  idea 
had  just  occurred  to  her  as  a  possible  solution  of  her 
difficulties) — "for  us  to  go  away  somewhere,  very  early 
in  the  week — just  for  a  short  trip — somewhere — any- 
where at  all?"  Being  well  into  the  subject,  she  warmed 
to  it,  and  went  on  rapidly:  "The  guests  need  not 
hinder  us,  you  know,  if  you  can  get  away  from  the 


A  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY  121 

bank.  And  I  don't  care  to  stay  long,  anywhere.  I 
would  so  much  like  to  go  away  alone  with  you  for  a 
short  trip,  somewhere,  Bingham." 

Harvard  smiled  a  bit  grimly,  although  Katherine  did 
not  notice  that. 

"That  sounds,"  he  said,  "very  much  as  if  there  is 
somebody  here — a  man  or  a  woman,  or  both — that  you 
would  like  to  be  rid  of."  He  hesitated  just  an  instant, 
and  added:  "Is  there  such  a  person?" 

"Why — er — perhaps,  dear.  I  had  not  thought  about 
it  in  just  that  way;  but " 

"Have  you  forgotten,  sweetheart,  that  you  have  one 
guest  here  who  cannot  very  well  be  gotten  rid  of  for 
another  whole  week,  without  giving  offense?  Mme. 
Savage  makes  her  dates  for  months  ahead,  and  is  as 
exact  about  them  as  a  railway  schedule.  Don't  you 
remember  that  it  is  only  a  short  time  since  you  told 
her  that  we  would  remain  at  Myquest  all  summer,  and 
that  you  asked  her  down  here  for  as  long  a  stay  as  she 
could  make — and  she  told  you  the  date  when  she  would 
come — which  she  kept — and  the  date,  twelve  days  later, 
when  she  would  leave  us,  which  she  means  to  keep  to  the 
letter?  You  can't  send  her  away,  Katherine.  She'd 
be  lost.  It  would  upset  her  entire  system  to  interfere 
with  her  timetable  of  dates." 

Katherine  nodded  without  replying. 

"Besides,"  Harvard  went  on,  "your  week-end  enter- 
tainment that  began  nine  days  ago,  has  developed  into 
a  house-party.  Demming  and  Sears,  Cora  Crane  and 
Di  Loring,  mean  to  stay  on  as  long  as  you  will  keep 
them ;  and — well,  there's  Belknap,  too.  He  seems  to 
like  it  so  well  here  that  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  de- 
cided to  stay  all  summer.  No,  Katherine,  I  don't  think 
that  we  can  pitch  them  all  into  the  highway  and  go 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

away;  but,  if  you  like,  you  can  give  notice  that  we 
will  close  the  house  a  week  hence." 

He  was  watching  her  closely  while  he  talked, 
although  his  tone  was  a  bantering,  rather  than  a  de- 
cided one. 

He  saw  that  she  sighed  again,  resignedly,  and  that 
she  was  vastly  more  disappointed  than  she  wished  him 
to  know.  He  was  more  than  ever  convinced  that  she 
was  keeping  something  from  him  that  she  wanted  to 
tell,  and  which,  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  she  with- 
held. 

"Who  is  it  that  you  wish  to  be  rid  of?"  he  asked 
abruptly.  "Belknap?" 

Instantly  she  was  on  guard. 

Her  husband's  question  might  have  been  purely  ac- 
cidental, or  there  might  have  been  a  purpose  behind 
it.  She  did  not  wait  to  inquire  of  her  own  mind,  but 
replied  instantly. 

"Did  you  notice,  Bingham,"  she  asked,  "that  Mr. 
Belknap  was  the  only  one  of  our  entire  guest-list  who 
did  not  appear  when  Mme.  Savage  alarmed  the  whole 
house  ?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied  coolly.  "I  did  notice  it;  but  I 
knew  why  he  did  not." 

"You  did?"  Katherine  almost  cried  out  in  her  sud- 
den alarm.  "Why — what " 

Harvard  replied  to  his  wife's  unfinished  question 
smilingly. 

"Pie,  too,  like  the  senorita,  discovered  prowlers  in 
the  grounds  around  Myquest,  but  with  the  difference 
that  he  actually  encountered  one  of  them,  and  had  been 
very  badly  handled  when  he  returned  to  the  veranda 
where  I  waited  him,  you'll  remember.  He  had  lost  his 
watch,  his  stick-pin,  and  some  money — and  an  irnpor- 


A  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY  123 

tant  message  or  letter,  which  he  went  back  to  search 
for  at  the  spot  where  he  was  attacked." 

Katherine,  in  her  amazement,  gasped,  and  Harvard 
misunderstood  the  reason  for  it. 

"Do  you  mean  that  he  was  robbed — actually 
robbed — in  our  grounds?"  she  demanded. 

"Yes;  perhaps  by  the  same  prowler,  or  prowlers, 
that  the  senorita  saw,  and  that  Mme.  Savage  shot  at. 
However,  you  have  not  replied  to  my  question." 

"What  was  it,  Bingham?" 

"You  would  not  want  to  go  away,  just  now,  unless 
there  were  some  persons  here  whom  you  prefer  to  be 
rid  of.  I  asked  you  if  that  person  is  Mr.  Conrad 
Belknap?" 

"Oh.  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so,  when  all  is  said.  He 
is  a  stranger  to  us,  isn't  he?  One  can't  say  that  he 
really  belongs,  you  know.  But,  dear,  the  truth  is,  that 
I  would  like  to  be  rid  of  all  of  them — every  last  one  of 
them." 

They  had  remained  standing  while  they  talked.  Now, 
Harvard  reached  out  and  put  his  arms  around  Kath- 
erine, and  drew  her  close  to  him,  kissing  her  brow,  and 
inhaling  the  fragrance  of  her  hair.  Then,  holding  her 
so,  he  asked: 

"Has  something  happened  to  annoy  you,  Katherine? 
Has  any  person  annoyed  you,  by  word  or  deed?  If 
anything  of  that  kind  has  occurred  I  want  you  to  tell 
me." 

"No,  no,  no,  no !"  she  exclaimed,  so  vehemently  that 
he  suspected  she  was  not  entirely  truthful.  Then  she 
broke  away  from  him  and  laughed.  "How  silly  we  are, 
just  because  of  a  burglar  scare,"  she  said.  "Do  go  to 
bed,  Bingham.  Do  you  know  what  time  it  is?" 

"I  wonder,"  Harvard  remarked  tentatively,  as  he 
turned  toward  the  door  to  his  own  part  of  the  suite, 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

and  while  his  back  was  toward  Katherine,  "if  you,  also, 
saw  a  prowler  under  your  window,  to-night?  I  wonder 
if  that  is  what  you  want  to  tell  me,  and  are  afraid  to 
tell — lest  I  should  go  outside  and  get  hurt,  or — hurt 
somebody  else?" 

Then,  before  she  could  reply,  he  wheeled  and  faced 
her — for  his  own  words  had  provided  the  key  to  the 
mystery  that  perplexed  him  so  sorely. 

"What  has  Belknap  done  to  you,  or  what  is  he  try- 
ing to  do?  Tell  me!"  he  demanded. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AN    APPALLING    SITUATION 

THERE  was  a  crucial  instant  for  Katherine  Har- 
vard when  her  husband  put  the  abrupt  question  which 
was  a  demand  rather  than  an  interrogation. 

It  was  one  of  those  vital  instants  when  one  has  only 
a  flash  of  time  in  which  to  determine  a  course  which  must 
be  adhered  to  indefinitely — in  which  a  thousand  queries 
and  replies  pass  into  and  out  of  one's  rmnd  with  the 
rapidity  of  thought  which  can  span  the  distance  be- 
tween earth  and  sun  within  one  ten-millionth  of  a  sec- 
ond. 

Katherine  realized  in  that  instant — when  there  was 
no  perceptible  pause  at  all — that  she  had  to  choose 
between  a  deliberate  deception  and  a  complete  revela- 
tion of  all  of  the  facts.  Merely  a  part  of  the  truth, 
with  something  withheld,  would  not  suffice  for  Bingham 
Harvard,  once  called  the  Night  Wind  by  the  men  who 
had  hunted  him. 

Katherine  lied  to  him — and  hated  herself  for  doing 
so  the  instant  when  it  had  been  done;  yet,  had  she 
been  given  an  hour  or  a  day  to  think  it  over,  she  must 
have  arrived  at  the  same  decision — for  the  dread  of 
what  Bing  might  do  filled  her  with  terror. 

"What  has  Belknap  done  to  you,  or  what  is  he  try- 
ing to  do?  Tell  me !"  was  the  demand  that  he  made  up- 
on her;  and  her  reply  was  ready  as  soon  as  the  last  two 
words  were  pronounced. 

125 


126  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Mr.  Belknap  ?"  she  questioned  instantly — and  Kath- 
erine  was  a  perfect  actress  in  such  emergencies. 

The  pronouncement  of  Belknap's  name  interroga- 
tively, was  made  with  such  perfect  simulation  of  as- 
tounded surprise  that  it  was  quite  enough  without  fur- 
ther remark.  It  was  so  adroitly  done  that  it  disarmed 
Harvard ;  and  she  added :  "What  has  he  done,  or  tried 
to  do — to  me?  Why,  what  could  he  do — what  could 
anybody  do — what  could  any  person  try  to  do  to  Bing- 
ham  Harvard's  wife — or  dare  to  try  to  do,  that  might 
affront  her?" 

Harvard  sighed,  unconsciously,  and  with  an  inward 
sense  of  relief. 

"Then,  dear,  answer  your  own  question — the  one 
that  you  have  just  asked,"  he  said.  "What  has  any- 
body done,  or  tried  to  do,  that  is  not  to  your  liking?" 

"Nothing,"  she  replied. 

Thus  Katherine  uttered  the  first  lie — why  soften  it 
by  substituting  the  word  untruth? — that  she  had  ever 
told  to  her  husband. 

Harvard  sighed  again. 

He  believed  her — because  he  had  never  known  her 
to  deceive.  Yet  there  remained  in  the  back  of  his  mind 
a  mental  reservation  of  doubt.  It  was  so  faint,  so  ob- 
scure, as  to  be  unrecognizable,  but  it  was  there. 

He  kissed  her  forehead  again,  curbed  and  withheld 
other  questions  that  sought  utterance,  held  her  close 
in  his  arms  for  a  second,  said  "Go  to  bed,  now,  sweet- 
heart," and  left  her. 

When  the  door  had  closed  and  he  was  gone,  Kath- 
erine moved  about  the  room  in  her  final  preparations 
for  bed,  methodically;  automatically  is  perhaps  a  bet- 
ter word. 

She  turned  down  the  bed-clothing,  snapped  off  the 
lights,  returned  to  her  bed,  got  into  it,  pulled  the  covers 


AN  APPALLING  SITUATION  127 

over  her,  snuggled  into  her  pillows,  and  closed  her  eyes. 
But — she  was  another  Katherine ;  she  was  not  the  same 
personality  that  she  had  been  a  little,  just  a  very  little 
while  before. 

She  had  told  her  husband  a  lie. 

Sleepless,  although  motionless  and  with  closed  eyes — 
for  she  was  trying  to  sleep — the  events  of  the  night 
since  she  came  to  her  room  from  the  veranda  passed  in 
review  before  her.  She  mentally  visualized  everything 
chronologically. 

Again,  in  retrospect,  she  put  on  her  negligee, 
snapped  off  her  lights,  and  stepped  from  her  window  to 
the  little  balcony  to  enjoy  the  night  air. 

Again  Belknap  made  his  appearance  beneath  her 
window,  and  dared  to  address  her  intimately,  by  her 
given  name,  and  by  another  one  which  only  an  extreme- 
ly favored  few  were  permitted  to  use;  again  the  seno- 
rita — Roberta — came  to  her  room,  frightened,  or  pre- 
tending to  be  frightened,  by  burglars. 

Katherine  had  not  believed,  then,  nor  did  she  be- 
lieve while  she  thought  it  over,  in  the  genuineness  of 
that  fright.  She  had  thought  then,  as  she  still  thought, 
that  it  had  been  simulated.  But  why — for  what  pur- 
pose? 

In  the  light  of  what  had  happened  afterward — with 
the  appearance  of  real  burglars  and  the  attempted  en- 
trance to  the  room  of  Mme.  Savage ;  with  the  absence 
of  Belknap  from  the  scene  that  followed,  and  with 
the  senorita's  too-reluctant  reappearance,  hovering  at 
the  edge  of  the  partly  clad  group  of  startled  guests — 
there  could  be  only  one  answer  to  those  two  questions. 

Katherine  opened  her  eyes  wide,  and  sat  up  in  bed, 
startled  into  sudden  revelation  when  that  answer  oc- 
curred to  her;  and  she  whispered  it  breathlessly,  in  a 
hushed  whisper. 


128  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"That  attempt  at  burglary  upon  Mme.  Savage  was 
real;  it  was  genuine.  Belknap  knows  who  those  bur- 
glars were,  and  was  expecting  them.  He  went  from  the 
veranda  into  the  paths  among  the  shrubbery  and  trees 
to  meet  them.  They  saw  him  under  my  window,  and 
they  quarreled;  perhaps  that  accounts  for  his  bruises. 
Roberta  is  Belknap's  accomplice — she  knows  why  he 
is  at  Myquest — what  he  intends  to  do — and  she  came 
to  my  room  to  warn  me  by  the  only  method  she  dared 
to  use." 

Instantly,  when  she  arrived  at  that  solution  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  night,  Katherine  sprang  out  of  bed, 
seized  her  discarded  negligee,  and  without  switching 
on  the  lights,  thrust  her  feet  into  her  bed-slippers  and 
ran — litterally  ran — to  the  door. 

She  opened  it  softly,  passed  to  the  outside,  closed 
it  noiselessly,  and  glided  like  a  ghost  in  pink,  to  the 
senorita's  door. 

She  hesitated  there  for  an  instant,  listening.  Then 
she  tapped  softly  upon  it,  and  waited. 

There  was  no  answer,  even  when  she  tapped  a  second 
time,  more  loudly,  so  she  grasped  the  knob,  turned  it, 
discovered  that  the  door  was  not  locked,  and  entered 
the  room. 

Senorita  Cervantez  was  not  there.  The  bed  had  not 
been  disturbed. 

Katherine  had  gone  to  the  senorita's  room  impulsive- 
ly, without  second  thought  regarding  the  wisdom  of  the 
act,  but  with  the  settled  determination  to  "have  it  out" 
with  the  woman  accomplice  of  Conrad  Belknap — with 
the  beautiful  pianiste  who  pretended  to  be  voiceless, 
who  was  at  once  so  beautiful  and  so  double-faced,  so 
lovable  and  yet  so  deceitful. 

If  Katherine  had  needed  any  added  conviction  of 
Roberta's  connection  with  Belknap  and  his  aims,  she 


AN  APPALLING  SITUATION  129 

found  it  in  the  senorita's  absence  from  her  room — and 
it  was  equally  plain  that  only  one  reason  could  have 
taken  her  from  it  at  that  time ;  she  had  gone  from  it  to 
seek  her  master — to  find  Belknap. 

"Shall  I  follow?  Shall  I  seek  them?'*  Katherine 
asked  herself  mentally ;  and  shook  her  head  slowly  in  a 
negative. 

"I  will  wait,"  she  told  herself  voicelessly;  and  she 
sought  a  chair  in  the  darkened  room,  for  none  of  the 
lights  was  turned  on,  and  only  a  dim  glow  shone  into  it 
from  the  starlight  without. 

She  found  one,  a  big  chair  upholstered  in  leather 
with  a  high  and  solid  back,  and  she  moved  it  a  trifle  so 
that  her  presence  in  its  depths  could  not  be  seen  from 
the  doorway  by  a  person  entering  the  room. 

Then  she  hid  herself  in  it  and  waited. 

During  many  minutes  she  sat  with  her  eyes  wide 
open,  staring  slantingwise  through  the  open  window 
where  the  filmy  lace  draperies  swelled  and  subsided  and 
swelled  again  in  the  zepherlike  night  breeze. 

When  they  bulged  into  the  room,  pressed  apart 
momentarily  by  the  drafts  of  air,  she  could  see — be- 
tween the  iron  spindles  of  the  balcony-rail — the  same 
big  balsam-tree  out  of  the  shadow  of  which  Belknap 
had  made  his  sudden  appearance  when  he  had  startled 
her  so  greatly,  earlier  in  the  night — and  she  fell  again 
into  going  over  the  details  of  the  evening  and  night, 
bit  by  bit,  item  by  item. 

Thus  the  sleep  that  would  not  be  wooed  when  she 
had  gone  to  bed  crept  stealthily  and  silently  upon  her 
in  the  chair  beside  the  opened  window,  and,  without 
realizing  it,  she  drowsed  and  drifted  into  obscurity. 

The  clicking  of  a  latch  startled  her  into  wakefulness. 
A  sharper  draft  of  air  bulged  the  draperies  into  the 
room. 


130  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Katherine  was  aware  that  the  door  opened,  and  was 
closed  again,  although  she  heard  no  further  sound ;  but 
she  was  certain  that  the  senorita  had  returned  and  was 
standing  somewhere  between  her  and  the  closed  door, 
unconscious  of  her  presence,  unwise  to  the  fact  that 
she  was  not  alone. 

It  was  Katherine's  impulse  to  speak,  but  she  did  not. 
She  sat  very  still  and  waited,  wishing  fervently  that 
she  could  see;  she  was,  at  the  moment,  sorry  that  she 
had  so  placed  the  chair  that  her  own  vision  of  the  in- 
terior of  the  room  was  minimized  to  next  to  nothing. 

She  could  hear  stealthy  footfalls,  presently,  as  the 
person  behind  her  crossed  the  floor. 

Absolute  silence  followed,  and  continued  so  long  a 
time  that  Katherine  found  it  difficult  to  restrain  her 
impulse  to  move  ever  so  little  so  that  she  might  turn 
her  head  enough  to  discover  what  was  going  on ;  yet  she 
feared  to  do  so,  knowing  that  the  slightest  of  sounds 
would  betray  her  presence  in  the  chair. 

Then  she  remembered  that  she  was  clad  only  in  her 
night-dress  and  the  filmy  negligee  that  covered  it;  and 
therefore  there  was  nothing  about  her  apparel  that 
would  rustle  if  she  moved ;  the  soft  material  of  her 
wrapper  would  slip  noiselessly  over  the  leather  cover- 
ing of  the  chair. 

After  another  moment  a  single  light  was  switched  on 
behind  her,  and  by  the  dim  glow  of  it  Katherine  knew 
it  to  be  the  green-shaded  desk-light  in  a  far  corner  of 
the  room;  but  the  silence  remained  unbroken. 

Katherine  could  bear  it  no  longer — and,  anyway, 
since  she  had  gone  to  that  room  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  having  an  understanding  with  the  senorita,  why 
delay?  So  she  moved  ever  so  little,  and  turned  her 
head,  and  fortunately,  made  not  a  sound  in  doing  so. 

What  she  discovered  terrified  her. 


AN  APPALLING  SITUATION  131 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  she  could  recall 
she  was  actually  afraid — really  scared — panic-stricken. 

The  person  who  had  entered  the  room,  who  had  so 
silently  crossed  it,  who  was,  in  fact,  at  that  very  instant 
moving  slowly  across  the  floor  toward  the  very  chair 
upon  which  she  was  seated,  was  not  the  senorita. 

It  was  a  man ;  and  the  man  was  Conrad  Belknap. 

Katherine  saw,  with  that  quick  capacity  for  compre- 
hension which  one  experiences  in  vital  moments,  that 
he  held  in  one  hand  an  opened  envelop  and  an  unfolded 
sheet  of  note-paper  that  he  had  evidently  taken  from 
it — a  letter,  apparently,  that  he  had  been  reading  by 
the  aid  of  the  desk-light;  a  fact  which  would  account 
for  that  enduring  silence  of  his  after  he  had  entered 
the  room  and  crossed  it  to  the  desk. 

It  was,  without  a  doubt,  a  letter  of  the  senoritd's 
that  she  had  left  upon  her  desk.  Katherine  saw  that 
the  envelope  had  been  sealed  with  wax,  and  had  been 
ruthlessly  broken  open. 

The  green  shade  over  the  desk-light  was  thick  and 
heavy,  and  there  was  not  sufficient  illumination  for 
Katherine  to  see  the  man's  face  plainly,  yet  she  did 
discern  enough  to  know  that  he  was  in  a  rage — a  silent, 
impotent,  helpless  rage,  about  something  that  was, 
for  the  moment,  beyond  his  control. 

She  had  no  time  in  which  to  determine  what  to  do; 
there  was  nothing  that  she  could  do. 

Belknap  had  not  seen  her;  she  knew  that.  He  was 
not  aware  of  her  presence  in  the  room ;  but  he  was  ap- 
proaching her  swiftly,  silently,  implacably;  evidently 
seeking  the  chair  as  she  had  sought  it  earlier,  and  she 
knew  that  in  just  another  instant  she  would  have  to 
rise  in  her  place  and  confront  him. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IN  THE  SENOBTTA'S  ROOM 

IF  Conrad  Belknap  had  taken  one  more  step  he  must 
have  seen  her. 

He  did  not  take  it.  There  was  a  sharp  click  against 
the  knob  at  the  door,  and  at  the  sound  of  it  he  turned. 

Katherine  had  been  on  the  point  of  rising  to  confront 
him,  and  she  had  swayed  her  body  around  in  the  chair, 
grasping  the  back  of  it.  She  was  ready  to  spring  to 
her  feet  and  to  demand  of  him  why  he  dared  to  prowl 
about  the  house  at  that  hour  of  the  night,  when  the 
slight  sound  at  the  latch  alarmed  him  and  he  turned 
away. 

Instead  of  rising,  Katherine  huddled  herself  more 
closely  into  the  chair,  drawing  her  feet  up  into  it  so 
that  she  was  on  her  knees,  and  with  only  so  much  of 
her  head  above  the  back  of  it  as  would  permit  her  to  see 
what  was  going  on. 

Belknap  had  wheeled  around  so  that  his  back  was 
toward  her,  and  he  stood  a  little  to  the  right  of  her 
line  of  vision  toward  the  door  which  fell  open  quickly 
after  that  click  at  the  knob. 

The  senorita  entered,  turned,  closed  the  door  silently, 
and  locked  it.  Then,  with  an  air  that  bespoke  dejec- 
tion, she  leaned  her  back  against  it;  and  with  bowed 
head,  and  her  gaze  evidently  upon  the  floor  at  her  feet, 
she  stood  there,  relaxed  and  panting,  as  if  she  were 
badly  frightened  or  had  been  running. 

Thus  she  did  not  see  Belknap  until  his  voice  startled 

132 


IN  THE  SENORITA'S  ROOM  133 

her  so  that  she  jumped.  Without  any  sort  of  doubt 
she  had  believed  herself  to  be  utterly  alone  when  she 
came  into  the  room  so  hastily  and  locked  the  door  after 
her. 

The  move  that  she  did  make,  then,  was  bewildering. 

It  is  an  axiom  that  persons  thus  rudely  startled  will 
act  instantly  and  impulsively  upon  the  idea  that  has 
been  most  emphasized  in  thought  immediately  pre- 
ceding the  alarm. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  Belknap  demanded  with- 
out preface.  His  voice  was  sharp,  cold,  and  authori- 
tative, and  Roberta  jumped  as  you  have  seen  kittens 
spring  into  the  air  when  one's  foot  is  scraped  sharply 
upon  the  floor  behind  them. 

She  sprang  toward  the  desk  where  Belknap  had 
snapped  on  the  light  beneath  the  green  shade,  which  she 
had  not  noticed,  evidently,  till  then;  possibly  she 
thought  she  had  left  it  so. 

Her  body  bent  forward  and  her  right  arm  was  ex- 
tended as  if  she  would  seize  something — without  doubt 
the  same  letter  that  Belknap  was  holding  in  his  hand, 
and  which  he  had  opened  and  read,  and  which  had 
angered  him,  as  Katherine  had  divined. 

Also,  he  seemed  perfectly  to  understand  her  im- 
pulse, for  when  she  turned  to  face  him  again,  with  one 
hand  clasped  at  her  breast,  and  utterly  heedless  of  his 
question,  Katherine  heard  him  say  in  that  coldly  sar- 
donic manner  which  was  so  thoroughly  his  character- 
istic: 

"I  found  your  letter.  I  have  it  here.  I  have  opened 
it  and  read  it." 

Bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  there  was  no  light  in  the 
room  save  the  very  dim  glow  that  escaped  from  beneath 
the  green  shade  where  Belknap  had  turned  on  the  desk- 
light. 


134          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

It  was  not  sufficient  to  enable  Katherine  to  observe 
either  of  them  distinctly.  Belknap's  back  was  toward 
her;  Roberta  was  beyond  him,  partly  facing  Katherine. 
The  impressions  she  got  from  the  scene  were  the  result 
of  intuition  combined  with  so  much  of  observation  as 
the  dim  light  would  afford. 

She  was  certain  of  just  one  thing,  however;  neither 
Belknap  nor  Roberta  suspected  her  nearness.  Fortu- 
nately it  did  not  occur  to  either  of  them  to  turn  more 
light  upon  the  scene. 

Katherine's  terrors  of  a  moment  ago  had  left  her. 

All  of  the  masterfulness,  all  of  the  shrewdness  for 
which  she  had  been  noted  when  she  was  attached  to  the 
detective  bureau  at  headquarters,  all  of  her  long  latent 
abilities  as  one  of  the  keenest  and  the  best  of  opera- 
tives, returned  to  her  in  that  moment. 

She  became  on  the  instant  once  more  the  Lady  Kate 
of  the  Police — the  quick-witted,  far-seeing,  inscrutable 
Lady  of  the  Night  Wind — the  indomitable  personality 
that  had  made  of  her  a  force  and  power  to  be  reckoned 
with  during  the  days  of  the  great  frame-up  which  had 
made  an  outlaw  of  Bingham  Harvard,  and  which,  but 
for  her  efforts,  would  have  kept  him  an  outlaw  for  the 
rest  of  his  days. 

She  forgot  that  she  was  in  negligee  and  bed-slippers, 
and  was  the  hostess  of  a  house-party  who  had  pene- 
trated surreptitiously  to  the  room  of  one  of  her  guests 
— for  although  Senorita  Cervantez  was  a  hired  en- 
tertainer, she  was  nevertheless  a  guest. 

Roberta — we  must  call  her  that,  save  when  require- 
ment renders  necessary  the  name  she  assumed  for  use  as 
an  entertainer — seemed  in  the  half  light  of  the  room  to 
straighten  and  stiffen  where  she  stood,  as  if  her  at- 
titude had  become  one  of  defiance. 

She  did  not  reply  to  Belknap's  question  at  all,  and 


IN  THE  SENORITA'S  ROOM  135 

there  was  a  perceptible  pause  before  she  answered  his 
remark  about  having  opened  and  read  her  letter.  Even 
then  she  uttered  only  one  word.  It  was: 

"Well?"  The  enunciation  of  that  one  word  was  as 
clear  and  distinct  as  the  tone  of  a  bell,  and  the  voice 
was  the  same  melodious  one  that  had  so  charmed  Kath- 
erine  upon  the  wires  of  the  telephone. 

"Where  were  you?  Where  did  you  go  after  you 
wrote  this  letter  and  left  it  to  be  found  on  your  desk 
in  case  you  should  not  return?  Where  have  you  been?" 

Roberta  did  not  answer;  but  Katherine  could  see 
that  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  a  disdainful  gesture 
that  was  almost  as  indifferent  to  consequences  as  the 
manner  and  attitude  of  Belknap  always  was. 

"Answer  me,"  the  man  commanded  sharply. 

Katherine  thought  that  Roberta  actually  smiled  at 
him  then ;  she  could  see  the  flash  of  her  perfect  teeth. 

Again  the  pianiste  did  not  reply. 

Instead — she  was  still  near  to  the  desk  with  its 
shaded  light,  although  her  back  was  toward  it — she 
moved  backward  and  reached  out  one  arm  until  her 
hand  covered  a  button  that  was  against  the  wall  be- 
side the  desk. 

Holding  her  hand  thus  she  spoke  again,  and  with  an 
element  of  cool  daring  in  her  voice — voice,  remember, 
coming  from  one  who  was  supposed  to  be  speechless — 
that  was  rather  amazing  under  the  circumstances ;  and 
it  seemed  to  be  her  turn  to  make  demand. 

"Leave  the  room,  C.  B.,"  she  said. 

Belknap's  answer  was  entirely  characteristic — and 
without  words. 

He  took  one  step  forward  and  to  the  right,  reached 
out  for  one  of  those  small  bedroom  chairs  that  are  more 
for  ornament  than  for  use,  swung  it  around  between 


136  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

his  legs  so  that  the  back  of  it  was  toward  Roberta,  and 
sat  down  astraddle  of  it. 

"Go  ahead  and  ring,"  he  said  then,  coolly.  "It  is 
getting  along  toward  two  in  the  morning.  Who  would 
hear  the  bell?  The  butler,  possibly.  Who  would  re- 
spond to  it?  Again,  the  butler — or  one  of  the  servants. 
What  would  he  find  when  he  arrived  ?"  Katherine  could 
see  the  expressive  shrug  of  Belknap's  shoulders ;  then 
he  added:  "Ask  yourself  that  question,  Berta — and 
answer  it  for  yourself.  You  ought  to  know  me  well 
enough  by  this  time  to  know  the  answer  to  it.  You 
won't  ring,  I  don't  think !  Now,  who  is  outside,  in  the 
grounds  of  Myquest — or,  who  did  you  expect  to  find 
out  there  waiting  for  you?  For  I  very  strongly  sus- 
pect that  you  were  disappointed." 

He  bent  farther  forward  across  the  back  of  the  gilt 
chair  and  his  chin  was  thrust  forward  as  he  added : 

"You  took  a  long  chance  when  you  wrote  this  letter 
and  left  it  on  your  desk — and  you  have  lost  out.  Of 
course  you  did  not  suppose  that  I  would  dare  to  come 
into  your  room  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  as  I  have 
done,  and  find  it  and  read  it;  but  you  ought  to  know 
by  this  time  that  I  dare  all  things  when  I  have  a  definite 
purpose  in  view,  and  you  ought  also  to  know  that  I 
shall  stay  right  here  where  I  am  until  you  pull  in  those 
little  prickly  horns  of  yours  which  couldn't  hurt  any- 
body. You  can't  do  anything  but  scratch  with  them, 
like  the  feline  little  animal  you  are;  you  couldn't  stab 
with  them  if  you  tried ;  they'd  break  off  before  they  got 
deep  enough  to  hurt.  I  brought  yor  down  here  to  do 
my  bidding,  and  you've  got  to  do  it,  and  you  know  it. 

"Bring  that  desk-chair  close  to  me  and  sit  down — 
and  sit  facing  me,"  Belknap  ordered  sharply.  "I  want 
to  see  you  while  I  talk  to  you.  It  will  be  as  well  to  have 
no  more  light  in  the  room  just  now." 


137 

"I  prefer  to  stand,"  Roberta  replied.  Plainly — to 
the  listening  Katherine — she  was  gaining  courage 
rather  than  losing  it. 

"Bring  that  chair  here  and  do  as  I  tell  you  or  I'll 
do  it  for  you,  and  put  you  on  it,"  Belknap  commanded 
— and  although  he  neither  raised  his  voice  nor  altered 
its  tone,  Roberta  obeyed  him. 

When  she  had  placed  it,  and  seated  herself  upon  it, 
her  position  was  such  that  if  she  should  lift  her  eyes 
from  Belknap's  face  she  would  see  Katherine ;  so  Kath- 
erine permitted  her  body  to  settle  down  in  the  big  chair 
until  she  was  entirely  concealed  by  it;  and  she  cuddled 
closely  into  the  depths  of  it,  content  to  hear,  without 
seeing. 

But  she  did  wish  to  hear  everything  that  might  be 
said  between  those  two ;  there  was  strong  likelihood 
that  their  conversation  would  enlighten  the  mistress  of 
Myquest  greatly. 

Belknap,  although  Katherine  could  not  see  him, 
seated  astride  of  his  chair,  was  bending  slightly  for- 
ward with  his  forearms  resting  lightly  across  the  back 
of  it.  His  eyes,  hard  and  cold,  but  piercing,  bored  into 
Roberta's  gaze  as  if  he  would  read  her  very  soul  while 
he  questioned  her. 

He  still  held  in  one  hand  the  letter  he  had  read,  and 
he  tapped  lightly  upon  it  with  one  finger  while  he  said : 

"So  you  have  been  having  another  try  at  stealing 
my  trump  card  away  from  me,  have  you?" 

Roberta  did  not  reply.    He  said : 

"Berta,  if  you  don't  answer  my  questions  as  I  ask 
them  I'll  make  you.  Now,  answer  that  one,  and  answer 
it  straight." 

"There  isn't  any  answer,"  she  replied  coolly. 

"Did  you  send  for  him  to  come  down  here?" 

"Yes,  if  you  want  to  know,  I  did." 


138          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"To  come  here  to  the  house?" 

"No." 

"This  letter  as  good  as  tells  me  that  you  more  than 
half  expected  to  find  him  in  the  grounds  under  the  trees 
waiting  for  you.  Was  he  there?" 

"No." 

"This  letter  was  written  by  you  and  left  on  your 
desk  in  case  you  should  not  return.  What  did  you 
mean  by  that?" 

"I  meant  exactly  what  the  letter  said — what  it  says 
— what  you  have  read — every  word  of  it,  C.  B." 

"So  you  were  going  to  double-cross  me  at  the  same 
time  you  made  your  own  getaway,  were  you?" 

"I  meant  to  warn  Mrs.  Harvard  against  you — yes — 
and  I  will  warn  her  if  you  insist  upon  keeping  me  here. 
I'll  find  my  voice  and  speak  out.  I'll  do  it  in  your 
presence,  too;  and  in  the  presence  of  Bingham  Har- 
vard, also.  Don't  forget  that  he  is  the  Night  Wind, 
C.  B.  Don't  forget  that  he  is  the  same  man  that  you 
have  so  often  talked  about  and  wondered  about.  Don't 
forget  that  he  loves  his  wife,  and  that  if  his  wrath 
should  once  be  turned  against  you,  you'd  be  withered 
and  crushed  and  rent  apart  in  his  grasp  like  a  child 
in  the  claws  of  a  man-eating  tiger." 

"There,  there,  Berta;  don't  get  dramatic.  What 
are  you  trying  to  do,  threaten  me,  or  are  you  just  try- 
ing to  scare  me?" 

"Neither.    I  am  warning  you." 

"Yes — against  yourself." 

He  chuckled.  Then  he  snapped  his  fingers.  There 
was  something  akin  to  amusement  in  his  voice  when  he 
said  coolly: 

"You  couldn't  warn  Katherine  Harvard  against  me, 
Berta.  You  couldn't  say  anything  to  her  about  me 
that  she  doesn't  already  know  or  guess.  I  haven't  been 


IN  THE  SENORITA'S  ROOM  139 

squeamish  in  letting  her  see  under  my  shell  of  respecta- 
bility. I  don't  care  if  she  does  know  it — all  of  it.  I 
shall  tell  her  myself,  exactly  who  and  what  I  am,  when 
the  proper  time  comes — when  a  fitting  opportunity 
shall  offer  itself.  She  doesn't  know  that  I'm  a  crook, 
but  she  is  fairly  well  convinced  of  it  already.  So,  don't 
you  see?  You'd  better  drop  that  lay." 

Roberta  did  not  reply. 

"Listen  here,  you  would-be  fairy-godmother  to  the 
Harvards.  I  came  to  Myquest  for  a  definite  purpose, 
and  I'm  going  to  accomplish  it.  I  brought  you  here  for 
a  definite  purpose,  and  I'm  going  to  make  you  perform 
your  part  of  it.  I  made  you  come  here  because  I  needed 
you,  and  I'm  going  to  make  use  of  you,  exactly  as  I 
planned  to  do  it — and  you  can't  dodge  that  fact  or 
avoid  it.  You  might  as  well  put  that  fact  into  your 
little  pipe  and  smoke  it,  Berta.  Are  you  paying  atten- 
tion to  what  I  am  saying?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you'd  better  pay  heed  to  it,  too ;  to  all  of  it." 

"Wait  a  moment,"  she  said  coldly.  "You  know, 
C.  B. — it  isn't  the  first  time,  either — that  I  will  throw 
you  down  the  very  first  time  I  find  the  chance.  I  have 
told  you  that  before.  I  mean  it.  I  am  tired,  worn 
out " 

"Can  that,  Berta !"  he  interrupted  her  sharply. 
"Why  this  sudden  spasm  of  goodness  and  purity  on 
your  part?  Eh?  What  has  put  the  worm  into  our 
little  apple?  Tell  me  that.  What  is  the  reason  for 
this  supposed  dumbness?  This  inability  to  speak  a 
loud  word?  Who  is  here,  among  the  guests  at  Myquest, 
who  might  recognize  that  sweet  voice  of  yours  if  you 
should  make  use  of  it?  Have  you  and  Katherine  Har — 
By  God,  I've  got  it!  So!  That's  the  idea,  is  it?  I 
get  you,  now,  you  she-cat.  You  tried  to  double-cross 


140  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

me  even  before  you  come  down  here,  didn't  you?  And 
you  used  a  telephone  to  do  it,  didn't  you?  You  have 
talked  to  Lady  Kate  on  the  telephone,  haven't  you? 
Answer  me!" 

"Yes." 

"She  is  the  one  you  were  afraid  would  know  your 
voice,  eh?" 

"Yes." 

"You  called  her  up  and " 

"I  did  not.  She  listened-in  when  you  called  me  up. 
Then,  when  you  hung  up,  she  spoke  to  me." 

"Then  why —  Oh,  I  see.  You  were  afraid  that  if 
she  got  onto  your  curves  right  off  the  reel,  as  soon  as 
you  appeared  on  the  scene,  she'd  fire  you  on  the  spot, 
ch?  And  you  wanted  to  play  us  two  off,  one  against 
the  other,  while  you  looked  on — for  a  little  while  before 
you  made  a  break.  Fine!  Fine!  Really,  Berta,  I'll 
take  my  hat  off  to  you  in  some  things." 

He  was  thoughtful  a  moment;  then  went  on,  in  the 
same  bantering  tone,  which,  nevertheless  held  a  sting: 

"I  see.  I  get  you.  I'm  wise.  Very  clever  of  you, 
you  panther-girl.  You  are  a  sort  of  panther-girl,  when 
all  is  said.  You're  sleek,  and  beautiful,  and  graceful, 
and  as  smooth  as  satin,  and  you  can  purr  as  softly  as 
one  of  their  kittens  ;  but  you've  got  teeth  and  claws,  and 
you  can  spit — as  well  as  bite  and  scratch.  YOU  were 
lying  back,  eh,  watching  for  the  psychological  moment, 
so  to  speak — waiting  for  the  moment  when  you  could 
bring  two  certain  people  together,  face  to  face,  while 
you  looked  on  and  patted  them  on  their  backs,  and 
played  the  good  fairy.  That  is  what  you  were  up  to, 
is  it?  That  is  the  way  you  intended  to  double-cross 
me." 

He  got  up  from  the  chair  and  shoved  it  aside — Kath- 
erine  ventured  to  peek  over  the  back  of  her  chair. 


IN  THE  SENORITA'S  ROOM  141 

She  saw  him  seize  one  of  Roberta's  wrists  and  jerk 
her  to  her  feet ;  she  heard  him  say : 

"All  right  for  you.  I  told  you,  when  you  promised 
to  come  here,  that  there  was  one  thing  that  I  would  not 
force  you  to  do;  but,  just  to  prove  to  you  that  you 
can't  play  the  cat-and-mouse  game  with  me,  I'll  make 
you  do  it,  now." 


CHAPTER  XVin 

ONE    QUALITY    OF    FEAR 

BELKNAP  released  Roberta's  hand  and  started  to- 
ward the  door,  but  he  stopped  and  turned  to  face  her 
again  before  he  touched  it.  Katherine  dropped  out  of 
sight  a  second  time,  but  was  conscious  of  a  touch  of 
sardonic  mirth  in  Belknap's  voice  when  he  spoke;  she 
could  picture  that  wolfish  smile  of  his  which  she  had  no 
doubt  he  was  employing. 

"I  wonder  if  by  any  chance  you  are  jealous  of  the 
beautiful  Katherine,"  he  said. 

"I  might  be  jealous  for  her,"  was  the  quick  retort 
from  Roberta.  "If  I  thought  that  you  so  much  as 

"Touche!"  he  interrupted,  and  laughed.  "Rest  easy, 
my  lady-of-the-claws-and-teeth.  The  charming  chate- 
laine of  Myquest  does  not  tempt  me.  It's  her  money 
that  I  want,  not  her  exquisite  self.  One  or  two  of  her 
jewels,  maybe — one  that  she  wore  during  the  evening, 
for  instance,  but  not  Katherine  herself." 

Roberta  did  not  reply ;  he  left  the  door  and  returned 
to  her. 

"On  the  level,  I  wouldn't  give  the  nail  off  of  one  of 
your  little  fingers  for  a  dozen  Katherine  Harvards," 
he  said,  and  then  Katherine  heard  the  sounds  of  quick 
motions  and  a  gasp  from  Roberta,  and  a  low,  chuck- 
ling laugh  from  Belknap. 

"Got  you,  haven't  I?"  Katherine  heard  him  say,  and 
she  ventured  to  peek  once  more  over  the  chair  back. 

142 


ONE  QUALITY  OF  FEAR  143 

He  had  seized  Roberta's  wrists  and  was  holding  them 
while  he  bent  forward  with  his  face  close  to  hers. 

"I've  got  you  so  you  can't  bite  or  scratch,  so  don't 
struggle.  It  won't  do  any  good.  I  am  going  to  hold 
you  till  I  have  said  something  that  I  want  you  to  hear. 
It's " 

"Let  go  of  my  wrists,"  Roberta  demanded  of  him 
coldly,  and  without  a  sign  of  an  attempt  to  free  her- 
self. "If  you  don't "  She  did  not  complete  the  sen- 
tence, but  he  seemed  to  know  what  she  would  have  said. 

"I  won't  let  go  until  I  have  finished  with  what  I 
meant  to  say  when  I  turned  back  from  the  door,  just 
now,"  he  told  her.  "It's  this :  you  seem  to  be  the  only 
person  of  my  acquaintance  who  has  the  power  to  ex- 
asperate me  to  the  limit  of  endurance.  You  are  the 
only  person  alive  who  can  madden  me  to  the  point  of 
losing  my  temper.  I  who  never  lose  it!  And  I  don't 
know  whether  it  is  because  I  love  you  or  because  I  hate 
you.  I " 

She  interrupted  him. 

"It  is  neither,"  she  said  coolly. 

"No?"     He  chuckled  again,  still  holding  her  hands. 

"No,"  Roberta  repeated  after  him.  "It  is  solely  be- 
cause you  know  that  you  are  not  my  master.  It  is 
because  I  defy  you — because  you  cannot  make  me  your 
slave — because  there  is  an  element  within  me  that  is  so 
utterly  beyond  your  control  that  you  are  mystified. 
But,  after  all  is  said,  C.  B.,  those  are  only  side  reasons. 
The  real  reason  why  I  exasperated  and  madden  you 
at  times  is " 

She  stopped,  gazing  frankly  into  his  eyes ;  and  while 
she  did  so  he  slowly  released  her  hands  and  stepped 
backward,  away  from  her — and  it  was  noticeable  (or 
would  have  been  so  if  another  could  have  seen  Roberta 
just  then;  Katherine  did  not  dare  to  lift  her  head  above 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

the  top  of  the  chair  back)  that  she  did  not  move  away 
from  him.  She  had  forced  him  to  become  the  one 
who  put  more  distance  between  them. 

When  she  paused  in  her  speech,  he  demanded: 

"Well,  what  is  the  real  reason?  I  would  like  to  know 
it." 

She  replied  to  him  slowly,  and  with  quiet  emphasis: 

"Because,  deep  down  in  your  heart  you  are  afraid  of 
me.  Because  I  am  the  only  person  in  the  world  that 
you  are  afraid  of;  and  because  the  experience  is  so 
strange  to  you — so  entirely  apart  from  your  regular 
scheme  of  things — that  although  you  know  it  to  be 
true,  you  will  not  permit  yourself  to  believe  it.  You 
won't  admit  that  it's  so." 

Belknap  laughed  softly,  showing  his  tooth  wolfishly. 

"You  are  afraid  of  me,"  Roberta  said  again.  "You 
know  that  I  carry  around  with  me  the  power  to  kill 
you  as  surely  and  as  quickly  as  the  lightning  strikes 
and  kills.  You  know  that  I  carry  with  me  wherever 
I  go  the  means  of  ending  my  own  life  as  suddenly,  and 
you  know  that  I  have  the  will  to  use  that  means — 
against  you  or  against  myself.  You  know,  too,  that 
there  is  only  one  thing  that  keeps  me  from  using  it — 
that  makes  me  withhold  my  hand,  and  it  all  resolves 
itself  to  the  one  fact  that  you  are  afraid  of  me.  You 
are  in  constant  and  deadly  fear  lest  you  go  a  step  too 
far,  and  so "  She  stopped. 

He  had  withdrawn  as  far  as  the  door;  Katherine 
realized  that  when  he  spoke  again.  His  voice  was  low, 
his  speech  deliberate  and  filled  with  menace. 

"Sometime,"  he  said,  "you  will  take  the  step  too  far. 
Sometime  you  will  force  me  to  take  the  step  which  will 
compel  you  to  act;  but,  when  I  do  take  it — don't  for- 
get this  little  fact,  Berta — you  will  be  the  victim,  not 
I.  You  will  take  your  own  life,  not  mine." 


ONE  QUALITY  OF  FEAR  145 

Katherine  heard  the  click  of  the  lock  as  he  turned 
the  key.  He  pulled  the  door  partly  ajar,  and  closed  it 
again.  His  cool  suavity  of  manner  had  returned  when 
he  said : 

"It  is  Sunday  morning  now.  To-morrow  will  be 
Monday,  and  I  shall  see  to  it  that  an  occasion  is  made 
for  you  to  make  use  of  your  skill  at  cards.  Do  you  get 
that,  Berta?" 

"Yes." 

"I  will  keep  the  letter  that  you  wrote  for  Lady  Kate 
to  read  in  case  you  did  not  return.  I  have  found  it 
interesting." 

"You  can  do  what  you  please  with  it ;  I  can  easily 
write  another  one,  if  need  be." 

"You  will  not  write  another  one,"  he  retorted  care- 
lessly. "There  will  be  no  need  of  one.  Our  useful 
friend,  for  whom  you  sent  to  come  here,  did  not  make 
his  appearance;  and  he  will  not.  You  will  see  to  that, 
now.  If  he  does,  you  will  regret  it ;  and  so  will  others 
whom  you  have  a  mind  to  champion." 

He  pulled  the  door  open,  passed  out,  and  closed  it 
after  him. 

Katherine  kept  very  still  in  her  hiding-place  in  the 
big  chair,  but  she  peeped  around  the  side  of  it  and  could 
see  Roberta  standing  with  her  back  toward  her,  with 
her  face  toward  the  door. 

Her  attitude,  now  that  Belknap  had  gone,  was  one 
of  utter  dejection. 

Katherine's  impulse  was  to  make  her  own  presence 
known  at  once ;  and  yet  her  police  training  assured  her 
that  it  was  much  better  that  she  should  not  do  so.  She 
kept  very  still,  withdrawing  into  the  chair.  She  knew 
that  it  was  quite  likely  that  Roberta  would  presently 
discover  her,  and  just  as  likely  that  she  would  not. 
In  the  one  case  she  intended  to  appear  to  be  very 


146          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

soundly  asleep,  and  in  the  other  she  would  wait  where 
she  was  until  Roberta  slept,  and  then  steal  silently  out 
of  the  room. 

After  a  time  that  seemed  interminable,  so  long  did 
Roberta  remain  in  that  attitude  of  thoughtful  dejec- 
tion, Katherine  could  hear  her  moving  about  the  room ; 
but  she  did  not  turn  on  any  more  lights,  nor  appear  to 
have  any  thought  of  preparing  herself  for  bed.  All 
that  she  seemed  to  do — for  Katherine  could  only  hear, 
and  not  see — was  to  walk  slowly  up  and  down  the  room, 
and  with  each  turn  that  she  made  she  sighed  deeply, 
as  if  the  burden  she  bore  was  almost  too  much  for  her. 

Katherine  was  in  a  dilemma. 

More  than  once  she  was  at  the  point  of  making  her 
presence  known;  she  had,  in  fact,  determined  to  do  so, 
and  had  partly  lifted  her  head  in  the  beginning  of  the 
act,  when,  as  if  Roberta  had  reached  a  guiding  decision, 
she  passed  the  chair,  went  swiftly  to  the  window,  and 
stepped  out  upon  the  balcony. 

Katherine  could  see  her  peering  with  apparent  eager- 
ness this  way  and  that,  as  if  she  searched  tlie  dark- 
ness with  her  eyes  for  somebody  she  hoped  to  see;  and 
presently  she  wheeled  about,  reentered  the  room, 
crossed  it  swiftly  without  seeing  Katherine,  and  went 
out,  closing  the  door  softly  behind  her. 

Instantly  Katherine  slid  from  the  chair  to  her  feet. 

At  all  hazards,  and  notwithstanding  her  negligee  at- 
tire, she  felt  that  it  was  her  duty  to  follow — for 
Roberta  had  said  to  herself,  whisperingly,  as  she 
crossed  the  room : 

"I  will  look  again.  Possibly  he  was  detained.  He 
may  be  there,  now,  waiting  for  me." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

A    MAN    IN    THE    OPEN 

KATHERINE  was  not  to  leave  the  house  that  night  on 
the  track  of  Roberta  in  precisely  the  way  she  planned, 
although  she  did  go  out  into  the  darkness  by  another 
method  than  the  door — by  one  that  was  forced  upon 
her,  which  she  would  not  have  attempted,  nor,  indeed, 
believed  possible  of  accomplishment  had  she  not  been 
compelled  to  it,  and  if  she  had  not  been  transformed, 
by  the  scene  she  had  just  witnessed,  to  the  keen  and 
daring  Lady  Kate  of  the  Police,  to  the  Lady  of  the 
Night  Wind  who  had  dared  so  greatly  and  accom- 
plished so  much,  long  ago,  when  she  had  taken  upon 
herself  the  task  of  clearing  her  husband  of  the  framed- 
up  charges  against  him. 

When  Roberta  went  from  the  room  after  making 
those  self-addressed  whispered  remarks  about  her  go- 
ing, Katherine  became  suddenly  alert  and  eager. 

She  was  again  the  shrewd,  resourceful,  and  skilful 
detective  of  her  "Miss  Maxwell"  days  at  headquarters, 
unafraid,  self-confident,  and  competent.  She  became, 
on  the  instant,  the  skilled  operative  of  by-gone  times. 

It  did  not  matter  to  her  then  that  she  was  in  negligee. 
Senorita  Cervantez,  the  Roberta  of  the  midnight  con- 
versation over  a  telephone  wire,  the  confederate  of  Bel- 
knap  in  his  schemes,  had  just  gone  out  into  the  night  a 
second  time  to  meet  somebody  she  had  sent  for  and  was 
expecting — somebody  who  was  inimical  to  Belknap  and 
his  plans — somebody  whose  identity  Katherine  vaguely, 

147 


148  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

very  vaguely,  suspected — and  Katherine  was  bound  to 
discover  who  and  what  that  same  somebody  might  be; 
she  was  determined  to  find  out  if  there  were  any  grounds 
for  her  faint  but  insistent  suspicions. 

She  had  what  Tom  Clancy  would  have  called  a 
"hunch." 

She  guessed  that  in  the  conversation  she  had  just 
overheard,  Belknap  and  Roberta  had  both  referred  to 
her  brother  Roderick — and  yet — and  yet 

She  darted  to  the  door  and  pulled  it  a  little  way 
open  without  a  jar  or  sound. 

There  was  the  possibility  that  Roberta  had  paused 
just  beyond  it ;  that  she  might  have  changed  her  mind ; 
so  Katherine  was  extremely  cautious — and  it  was  well 
that  she  was  so. 

She  peered  into  the  hall,  which,  although  dimly  lit, 
was  lighter  than  the  room  behind  her. 

Instantly  she  withdrew  her  head,  reclosed  the  door, 
and  turned  the  key  in  the  lock,  fastening  it.  Then, 
almost  holding  her  breath,  she  waited. 

What  she  had  seen  was  startling  enough. 

Roberta  had  already  disappeared — much  more  quick- 
ly than  Katherine  had  believed  she  could;  more  than 
likely  she  had  run  to  the  stairs  and  down  them.  But 
Belknap  was  returning. 

She  had  caught  sight  of  him  at  the  moment  he  turned 
around  the  post  of  the  balustrade  coming  from  the 
floor  above,  where  his  room  was  located;  she  had  seen 
him — and  she  feared  that  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
her.  Not  enough  to  have  recognized  her ;  she  was  quite 
certain  as  to  that,  but  his  eyes  had  evidently  been  on 
the  door  when  she  had  thrust  her  head  outward.  He 
had  started  forward  with  quickened  pace,  and 

The  knob  of  the  door  turned ;  then  when  it  would  not 
yield,  the  knob  was  shaken  gently. 


A  MAN  IN  THE  OPEN  149 

Katherine  made  no  response  whatever.  She  stood 
very  still,  listening. 

Belknap,  at  the  opposite  side,  tapped  lightly  against 
it.  Then  Katherine  heard  his  voice  raised  barely  above 
a  whisper. 

"Let  me  in,  Berta,"  he  said.  "There  is  something  I 
forgot  to  say,  and  there  is  no  knowing  when  there  will 
be  another  opportunity  like  this  one.  You  haven't 
undressed,  yet,  I'm  sure.  Open  and  let  me  in.  I  won't 
stay  five  minutes.  I  promise." 

Katherine  smiled,  well  pleased  to  know  that  he  had 
not  recognized  her;  and,  of  course,  she  made  no  reply 
whatever. 

Belknap  did  not,  immediately,  speak  again,  but 
Katherine  could  hear  a  faint  rustling  beyond  the  closed 
door;  and  then  she  became  genuinely  startled. 

She  heard  the  click  of  metal  against  metal  at  the 
keyhole,  and  Belknap's  muttered  remark  made  at  the 
same  time: 

"All  right.     If  you  won't  let  me  in,  I'll  go  in." 

And  Katherine  understood. 

She  knew  that  he  was  using  burglar-forceps  to  grip 
the  post  of  the  key  and  turn  it,  and  thus  unlock  the 
door  from  his  side,  and  she  knew  that  it  could  be  done 
as  easily  as  if  he  held  the  key  itself.  She  knew  all  about 
such  instruments ;  she  had  seen  many  a  pair  of  them  in 
the  museum-cabinet  at  headquarters. 

It  did  not  at  the  instant  occur  to  her  to  seize  the 
key  and  hold  it — and  even  if  she  had  done  so,  Belknap 
would  presently  have  discovered  that  it  was  not 
Roberta,  but  another,  beyond  the  door — and  he  might 
guess  who  that  other  person  was.  Katherine  was  very 
far  from  wanting  him  to  suspect  that  she  had  been  a 
witness  to  the  scene  that  had  just  happened  inside  of 
the  room. 
\ 


150  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

When  the  forceps  clicked  against  the  lock,  and  she 
realized  what  was  doing,  she  darted  away,  and  by  the 
time  he  had  begun  to  turn  the  key  in  the  manner  de- 
scribed, she  had  fled  into  Roberta's  bath-room,  and  had 
closed  and  locked  the  door  after  her — and  that  time 
she  withdrew  the  key  and  dropped  it  to  the  tiled  floor. 

But  there  was  no  other  way  out  of  that  room — un- 
less   She  glanced  toward  the  high  and  narrow  win- 
dow and  shook  her  head — but  approached  it  neverthe- 
less— and  stepped  upon  the  low  chair  that  stood  be- 
neath it  while  she  pushed  wide  open  the  hinged  screen 
to  peer  into  the  night  outside. 

"It  might  be  done,"  she  told  herself  mentally.  "It 
can  be  done.  I  must  do  it.  That  man  shall  not  know 
that  I " 

Belknap  had  entered  the  other  room  and  was  rapping 
softly  against  the  bathroom  door. 

"Come  out  here,"  she  heard  him  say.  "What  is  the 
matter  with  you?" 

But  Katherine  was  working  with  feverish  haste  and 
paid  no  heed  to  him. 

There  was  a  pile  of  bath-towels  in  the  small  cupboard 
where  they  were  kept;  and  they  were  of  generous  size. 

She  seized  upon  them  one  by  one  and  knotted  them 
together  until  she  decided  that  her  improvised  rope  was 
long  enough,  for  she  had  made  up  her  mind  that  she 
would  experience  only  slight  difficulty  in  forcing  her 
slender  body  through  the  window.  She  had  not  a  doubt 
that  Belknap,  when  he  became  convinced  that  Roberta 
would  not  go  out  to  him  nor  answer  him  (for  of  course 
he  could  not  doubt  that  it  was  Roberta  inside  of  the 
bathroom),  she  believed  that  he  would  do  one  of  two 
things ;  he  would  either  try  to  force  the  door — an  un- 
likely thing1 — or  he  would  calmly  announce  that  he 
would  sit  down  and  wait  till  she  came  out,  if  it  took 


A  MAN  IN  THE  OPEN  151 

her  till  doomsday  to  decide — an  extremely  likely  thing 
for  him  to  do  in  his  present  mood. 

Well,  he  could  wait;  but  Katherine  did  not  propose 
to  remain  where  she  was  to  be  waited  for.  Roberta 
might  have  done  so ;  she  would  not. 

She  tied  one  end  of  her  rope  around  the  pipe  of  the 
hot-water-heating  apparatus  that  passed  from  floor 
to  ceiling  in  the  corner  beside  the  window;  then  she 
got  upon  the  low  chair  again  and  began  her  strange 
exit  from  the  bathroom. 

She  could  hear  Belknap  talking,  but  she  paid  no  heed 
to  what  he  was  saying. 

She  had  to  force  her  way  head  first  through  the 
window — there  was  no  other  way — but  she  kept  a  firm 
grip  upon  her  towel-rope. 

Head  and  shoulders  first  while  she  clung  with  one 
hand  to  the  rope  of  towels,  she  forced  her  way  through 
the  narrow  space. 

Katherine  was  slender  and  willowy.  There  was  but 
little  impediment  of  clothing  to  overcome,  as  we  know. 

It  was  a  tight  squeeze,  nevertheless ;  but  she  made  it 
inch  by  inch,  by  squirming  and  edging  her  body  for- 
ward a  little  at  a  time,  first  at  one  side  and  then  at  the 
other,  emerging  finally  at  the  opposite  side  in  the 
position  of  one  who  dives  into  the  water. 

When  at  last  she  was  free  from  the  window  casings, 
she  did  dive,  but  she  clung  desperately  to  her  rope  as 
it  caught  her  weight  and  whirled  her  body  over. 

The  impetus  of  her  fall  and  the  sharp  jerk  upon  the 
improvised  rope  proved  too  much  for  the  knot  she  had 
tied  around  the  water  pipe;  it  was  not  equal  to  the 
sharp  and  sudden  strain  upon  it. 

It  came  loose,  and  she  fell,  a  few  feet  only,  and  upon 
the  soft  sod,  so  that  in  her  quite  natural  excitement  of 
the  moment,  and  her  glee  over  the  escape  she  had  made, 


152  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

she  was  barely  conscious  of  the  shock  of  it — and  the 
knotted  towels  fell  with  her,  and  she  gathered  them  up 
as  she  got  upon  her  feet  and  sprang  into  the  deeper 
gloom  of  the  night  among  the  shrubbery. 

So  Katherine  was  free  from  the  house,  leaving  Bel- 
knap  none  the  wiser. 

She  smiled  at  the  thought  of  his  amazement,  if,  while 
he  waited  beside  the  locked  bathroom  door,  Roberta 
should  return — and  remembrance  of  Roberta  brought 
to  mind  her  original  purpose. 

But  a  moment  of  thought  convinced  Katherine  that 
it  would  be  worse  than  useless  to  seek  her  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

Roberta  had  gone  out  with  a  definite  purpose,  and 
doubtless  to  a  definite  place ;  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
guessing  where  that  place  might  be  located. 

Moreover,  now  that  she  was  in  the  open  air,  she 
needed,  and  very  much  wanted,  clothing. 

There  was  no  means  of  reentering  the  house  at  once ; 
she  knew  that  she  would  have  to  wait  until  morning  to 
do  that — if  she  hoped  to  accomplish  it  without  betray- 
ing the  unusual  circumstances  of  her  being  outside,  and 
she  had  no  notion  of  letting  anybody  into  that  secret. 
It  was  wholly  her  own,  thus  far,  and  she  meant  to  keep 
it  so. 

She  did  not  know  where  she  could  go. 

There  was  always  the  Nest,  her  one  place  of  secure 
refuge  from  any  and  every  sort  of  storm  or  stress. 
There  was  everything  that  she  might  need  there;  and 
never  yet  had  there  been  a  time  when  she  was  so  thank- 
ful for  its  existence — so  grateful  for  that  whim  of  hers 
that  she  had  coddled  and  encouraged  since  childhood, 
which  had  induced  Bingham  to  let  her  build  it — never 
had  she  appreciated  the  fact  of  it  so  much  as  at  that 
moment. 


A  MAN  IN  THE  OPEN  153 

It  was  her  "mystery  place,"  her  very  own  sanctum, 
and  with  a  smile  of  content  she  made  her  way  swiftly 
along  the  winding  paths  among  the  bushes  and  shrubs 
toward  the  artificial  lake  beside  and  above  which  it  was 
located. 

She  glided  along  like  a  spirit — and  with  scarcely 
more  noise  than  one  might  make — and  so  she  came  at 
last  to  the  shore  of  the  little  lake,  to  a  pathway  that 
followed  the  indentures  of  it  and  would  lead,  presently, 
to  another  one  that  ended  at  the  Nest. 

Katherine  was  too  impatient  to  keep  to  the  path ;  the 
way  across  was  shorter,  and  she  knew  every  inch  of  it 
even  if  the  darkness  was  deeper  among  the  towering 
trees  from  beneath  which  every  scrap  of  lesser  growth 
had  been  cleared  away. 

Gliding  noiselessly  onward,  flitting  like  a  sprite  from 
tree  to  tree,  she  came  to  a  sudden  stop,  and  sniffed  the 
air  like  a  hunting-dog  that  has  caught  the  scent  of 
game. 

It  was  the  unmistakable  odor  of  a  cigar  that  Kath- 
erine had  sensed,  and  as  she  came  to  a  halt  and  lis- 
tened, peering  eagerly  this  way  and  that,  she  detected 
the  low  murmur  of  voices  in  conversation — just  the  low 
hum  of  them,  with  nothing  distinct  about  it. 

"Roberta !"  she  thought  quickly.  "Roberta,  and  the 
man  she  came  out  to  meet.  And  he  is  smoking.  Foolish 
man !  But  he  could  not  guess  that  a  regular  old-timer 
detective  would  be  out  here  on  his  trail." 

She  smiled  broadly  at  her  own  facetiousness  while 
she  stood  very  still  and  listened  intently  in  order  to 
catch  the  exact  location  of  the  sounds  she  heard.  Then 
her  face  took  on  a  serious  expression;  and  as  she 
moved  slowly  forward  toward  the  sound,  she  murmured 
to  herself: 


154  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Can  it  be?  Oh,  can  it  be  possible  that — that  he — 
No,  no;  I  can't  believe  it.  But,  if  it  is  not  that,  it 
must  be  another  part  of  this  hideous  plot;  and,  what- 
ever it  is,  I  mean  to  know  about  it." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    FACE    IN    THE    FLAME 

A  BROAD-SPREADING  box-elder  tree  grew  on  the  bank 
of  the  lake  just  where  Katherine  approached  it  from 
the  wood.  Its  long,  thickly  leaved,  horizontal  branches 
extended  above  the  water  in  one  direction,  and  as  far 
back  from  the  shore  in  the  other,  creating  a  perfect  and 
extensive  shade  in  the  daytime,  and  enveloping  all 
things  beneath  it  in  black  darkness  at  night.  There 
was  a  rustic  bench  under  it,  where  Roberta  and  her 
companion  were  seated,  facing  the  lake,  and  therefore 
with  their  backs  toward  Katherine  as  she  stealthily  ap- 
proached them  from  among  the  trees. 

Under  the  tree,  against  the  surface  of  the  water 
that  shone  in  the  starlight  beyond,  Katherine  could 
discern  the  outlines  of  both  figures  with  just  enough 
distinctness  to  determine  one  from  the  other — to  know 
which  was  the  man,  and  which  was  the  woman. 

They  were  seated  very  close  together;  the  man's  left 
arm  was  stretched  along  the  back  of  the  bench  behind 
Roberta;  they  seemed  to  be  conversing  earnestly,  but 
their  voices  were  tuned  to  a  pitch  so  low  that  even  when 
Katherine  had  approached  them  as  near  as  she  dared, 
she  could  hear  no  word  distinctly  that  was  uttered  be- 
tween them. 

It  became  very  quickly  evident  to  her  that  whatever 
might  have  been  the  reason  for  the  clandestine  inter- 
view, its  purpose  had  been  already  accomplished,  for 
even  as  Katherine  attained  a  position  from  which  she 

155 


156  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

might  have  overheard  them  had  they  continued,  they 
got  up  from  the  bench  and  stood  facing  one  another. 

Katherine  stood  behind  the  trunk  of  a  giant,  old- 
growth  hemlock,  with  her  lithe  and  slender  body  pressed 
closely  against  it,  and  with  her  head  bent  forward  so 
that  she  could  look  past  it ;  but  the  drooping  branches 
of  the  box-elder  hid  their  heads  and  shoulders  from  her 
sight.  But  she  was  able  to  see  that  the  man  held  both 
of  Roberta's  hands  tightly  clasped  in  his — and  she  was 
aware  that  he  bent  nearer  as  if  to  touch  his  lips  lightly 
against  Roberta's  forehead. 

They  parted  then — and  Katherine  had  heard  not  a 
word  that  had  passed  between  them. 

Roberta  glided  away  swiftly  and  noiselessly,  and 
was  lost  to  sight  around  a  winding  of  the  path  along 
the  shore,  which,  by  the  way,  would  have  brought  Kath- 
erine directly  upon  them  had  she  pursued  that  course 
instead  of  cutting  across  through  the  trees  on  her  way 
to  the  Nest. 

The  man  remained. 

He  stood  quite  still  until  Roberta  had  disappeared; 
then  he  sat  down  on  the  bench  again,  struck  a  match, 
and  applied  the  flame  of  it  to  his  cigar  with  the  burning 
match  cupped  in  his  hands,  but  with  his  back  toward 
Katherine,  for  all  the  world  as  if  it  were  done  pur- 
posely to  tantalize  her. 

She  had  the  mad  notion  that  the  man  was  her  brother 
Roderick,  and  she  could  not  rid  herself  of  that  convic- 
tion, and  yet,  strange  paradox,  she  felt,  she  almost 
knew,  that  it  could  not  be  so. 

He  was  tall,  broad  of  shoulder,  well  built,  and  car- 
ried himself  like  a  soldier ;  she  had  been  able  to  discern 
that  much.  Every  item  of  that  description,  so  far  as  it 
went,  would  apply  to  Roderick  Maxwilton;  but  so 
would  it  apply  as  precisely  to  thousands  of  others. 


THE  FACE  IN  THE  FLAME  157 

She  had  not  heard,  with  any  distinctness,  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  and  she  was  by  no  means  sure  that  she 
would  remember  Roderick's  if  she  could  hear  him  speak. 
She  believed  that  she  would,  but  she  was  doubtful,  too, 
so  many  years  had  come  and  gone  since  she  had  listened 
to  it  and  loved  it. 

She  had  been  only  a  girl,  then,  with  her  hair  in  braids 
down  her  back.  Precocious  and  wise  beyond  her  years, 
perhaps,  but  a  girl,  nevertheless.  And  Roderick  was  al- 
ready a  young  man  with  a  drooping  though  somewhat 
scanty  mustache,  with  coal-black  hair  that  he  had  per- 
mitted to  grow  quite  long,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
Southern  youth,  at  that  time,  and  he  had  been  ad- 
dicted to  frock  coats  and  wide-brimmed  hats,  string 
ties,  and  a  touch  of  "swagger" — like  other  young  Ken- 
tuckians  of  his  class. 

Besides,  during  the  three  years  that  had  immediately 
preceded  his  "going  away  from  home,"  Katherine 
Maxwilton  had  seen  very  little  of  her  brother — less  and 
less  with  each  succeeding  day  and  week  and  month. 

He  had  been  wild,  untamed,  and  untamable;  she, 
only  the  kid-sister  at  home.  He  had  raced  his  horses, 
drank  his  toddies  and  juleps  and  smashes,  played  cards, 
made  love,  and  sowed  his  wild  oats  broadcast  with 
generous  indulgence;  she  had  been  the  kid  sister  at 
home  who  saw  him  scarcely  at  all,  save  when — as  quite 
often  happened — in  the  dead  of  night,  or  at  dawn, 
she  stole  down  the  stairs  to  help  him  into  the  house 
and  to  his  room,  without  waking  their  parents. 

She  had  idolized  him  and  worshiped  him,  nevertheless 
— her  only  brother;  for  he  had  been  the  eldest  and 
Katherine  the  youngest  among  five,  and  of  the  three 
who  had  died,  she  had  no  recollection  whatever. 

So  she  panted  with  expectancy  and  dread  while  she 
stood  behind  the  trunk  of  the  hemlock  watching  the 


158  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

man  on  the  bench  who  smoked  on  as  unconcernedly 
as  if  he  had  not  a  care  in  the  world  beyond  the  im- 
mediate consumption  of  the  cigar. 

She  wished  that  he  would  throw  that  one  away  and 
light  another,  and  turn  so  that  he  would  face  toward 
her  when  he  did  it.  She  was  certain  that  she  would 
know  him  if  he  were  Roderick.  She  was  not  sure  about 
the  voice,  but  she  knew  that  she  could  never  forget  the 
handsome,  somewhat  dissipated,  but  wholly  patrician 
face  of  her  brother. 

After  a  time  he  stood  up  again,  tall  and  stalwart, 
with  his  head  and  shoulders  veiled  within  the  black 
gloom  above  him,  and  Katherine  crouched  low  behind 
her  tree. 

Then  he  did  precisely  what  she  had  been  hoping  that 
he  would  do;  having  turned  his  body  slowly  around, 
gazing  first  out  across  the  lake,  then  toward  the  build- 
ings of  Myquest,  he  presently  faced  directly  toward 
herself  as  if  he  looked  at  the  trunk  of  the  very  tree 
behind  which  she  was  crouched. 

He  struck  a  match;  he  held  the  flame  of  it  before 
his  face  while  he  applied  it  to  the  cigar  so  that  every 
line  of  his  features  showed  plainly — and  Katherine  was 
conscious  of  a  sharp  pang  of  disappointment. 

She  saw  no  resemblance  to  her  brother  Roderick  in 
that  flame-illuminated  face. 

Katherine's  disappointment  was  so  keen  that  she 
closed  her  eyes  in  the  spasm  of  regret  that  followed  it ; 
she  had  not  realized  how  earnestly  she  had  hoped,  nor 
how  confidently  she  had  expected,  that  the  flaring  light 
of  the  match  would  reveal  the  face  of  her  brother. 

When  she  opened  them,  and  lifted  her  gaze  again,  he 
had  gone. 

It  amazed  her  that  he  could  disappear  so  swiftly  and 
silently;  but  the  fact  of  it  reminded  her  of  Bingham 


THE  FACE  IN  THE  FLAME  159 

when  he  had  been  the  Night  Wind,  and  a  hunted  man. 

She  kept  very  still  for  a  time  after  that,  for  she  did 
not  know  that  the  strange  man  might  not  be  close  at 
hand  where  he  would  discover  her  if  she  started  away ; 
but  ere  long  she  became  convinced  that  he  had  really 
gone,  and  so  she  continued  on  her  way  toward  the  Nest. 

The  artificial  lake  was  the  gem  of  Myquest. 

It  was  somewhat  more  than  two  acres  in  extent,  and 
had  been  made  by  erecting  a  dam  across  a  narrow  ra- 
vine to  hold  back  the  waters  of  a  brook  of  sweet  cold 
water  that  had  no  doubt  once  been  a  torrent.  It  was 
fed  by  numerous  springs  as  well  as  by  the  brook,  and 
was  clear,  and  cold,  and  deep,  and  was  well  stocked  with 
several  varieties  of  trout  which  the  guests  at  Myquest 
always  found  delight  and  entertainment  in  feeding. 

There  was  a  boat-house  and  two  bath-houses  at 
the  shore-side  nearest  to  the  Myquest  home,  while 
upon  the  higher  of  the  two  bluffs  that  bordered  the 
ravine,  Katherine  had  had  built,  under  her  personal 
supervision  and  direction,  and  after  her  own  self-made 
plans,  a  Swiss  chalet ;  and  the  building  of  it  had  been  a 
whim  of  hers  which  Bing  had  indulged  to  the  limit — 
and  then  some. 

It  was  Katherine's  very  own — more  individually  and 
exclusively  hers  than  in  her  wildest  imaginings  she  had 
ever  dreamed  of — for  her  husband  had  gone  her  one 
better  in  every  suggestion  she  had  made  about  it  until 
it  had  become  a  veritable  Castle  of  Seclusion  for  the 
indulgence  of  her  own  pet  hobbies,  theories,  tastes,  and 
talents,  and  into  which  no  other  human  being  than  her- 
self had  penetrated  since  the  moment  when  the  last  of 
the  imported  workers  upon  it  had  completed  his  task 
and  gone  away. 

She  would  have  admitted  Bingham  to  it,  gladly,  of 
course ;  but  she  was  none  the  less  secretly  pleased  when, 


160  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

at  its  completion,  and  in  reply  to  her  suggestion  that 
he  should  go  inside  with  her  to  inspect  it,  he  had  said, 
laughingly,  yet  with  seriousness: 

"No,  sweetheart.  That  little  chalet  of  stone  and 
cement  and  tiling  is,  and  shall  continue  to  be,  your  very 
'onliest'  own.  No  foot  but  your  own  shall  step  across 
its  threshold ;  not  even  mine.  You  planned  it  yourself, 
you  built  it,  you  selected  every  field-stone  for  its  con- 
struction— every  hollow  tile  and  ounce  of  cement,  al- 
most. It  is  the  perfection  of  your  own  vision  of  such 
a  place,  that  you  have  so  often  told  to  me;  it  is  your 
childhood's  dream  come  true.  Another  presence  than 
your  own,  inside  of  it,  would  be  desecration — even  your 
husband's.  You  are  the  hermit  thrush,  and  the  chalet 
is  your  nest. 

The  Nest  she  had  named  it  forthwith. 

Katherine  had  no  reason  for  desiring  such  exclu- 
siveness  save  the  whimsical  one  of  absolute  personal 
possession  entirely  free  from  interruption  and  the  fear 
of  interruption;  a  retreat  that  was  all  her  own  where 
she  could  seek  and  find  seclusion  and  solitude  whenever 
she  wished,  and  where  both  would  be  perfect  and  in- 
violate. 

Her  favorite  etchings  and  drawings,  her  choicest 
books,  her  sentimental  penates  that  she  had  selected 
and  preserved  since  childhood,  her  tenderest  keepsakes, 
were  there. 

So  was  her  easel,  before  which  she  passed  many  hours 
with  pallette  and  knife  and  brushes,  or  with  pencil  and 
crayon  as  the  whim  might  take  her. 

So  was  her  desk  there,  over  in  one  corner  between 
two  windows  that  overlooked  the  lake  at  different 
angles — windows  which  permitted  of  no  vision  of  the 
interior  from  without ;  as,  indeed,  was  the  rule  without 
exception  for  every  other  window,  too. 


THE  FACE  IN  THE  FLAME  161 

She  passed  many  silent  and  happy  hours  at  her  desk, 
writing,  as  also  at  her  easel,  painting;  but  these  were 
little  secrets  of  her  own,  shared  by  none  as  yet. 

Katherine  required  no  key  with  which  to  enter  the 
Nest. 

The  lock  which  guarded  its  one  door  of  entrance  had 
been  made  and  adjusted  for  her  by  the  so-called  best 
lockmakers  in  the  world.  It  had  neither  dial  nor  key- 
hole; it  was  invisible,  and  its  presence  unsuspected — 
and  was  as  great  a  mystery  from  the  inside  as  from 
without. 

Simple  enough,  all  of  it,  to  Katherine ;  yet  a  stranger 
outside  of  that  chalet  could  not  get  in,  and,  by  the 
same  token,  a  person  inside  of  it  and  unwise  to  its 
secret,  could  not  get  out ;  for  the  windows  were  guarded 
as  thoroughly  and  as  skillfully,  and  by  the  same  sort 
of  mechanism  as  the  door.  When  she  was  inside,  the 
steel  blinds  that  covered  them  were  shoved  aside  by  the 
mere  pressure  of  one  of  her  fingers  upon  the  secret 
springs ;  and  even  then  their  arrangement  was  such  that 
prying  or  curious  eyes  could  not  see  past  them  to  the 
daintiness  and  homeyness  inside. 

The  ventilation  was  ample  and  complete,  and  could 
be  rendered  greater,  or  less,  by  the  pressure  of  a  finger. 
Indeed,  very  many  mysterious  things  could  be  accom- 
plished there  by  the  touch  of  Katherine's  fingers. 

The  Nest  was  really  a  wonderful  place. 

It  contained  every  comfort  and  convenience  of  a  tiny 
home;  and  it  stood  high  perched  upon  the  bluff  at  one 
end  of  the  dam  that  was  as  solid  and  substantial  in  its 
way  as  that  one  of  Ashokan. 

The  little  house  was  made  of  uncut,  hillside  stones. 
The  roof  was  of  terra-cotta  tile.  The  door  and  the 
windows  were  framed  with  oak  encased  in  steel.  It  was 
built  at  the  pinnacle  of  the  taller  of  the  two  bluffs, 


162  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

which  stood  at  either  side  of  the  narrow  ravine  like 
sentinels  on  guard  above  the  dam,  and  there  was  but 
one  pathway  to  it  with  a  flight  of  stairs  at  the  top 
which  could  be  transformed  into  no  stairs  at  all  by 
another  touch  of  one  of  Katherine's  fingers  inside  of  the 
house,  or  below  the  stairs  outside  of  it. 

There  were  many  other  secrets,  also,  than  those 
already  described,  connected  with  Katherine's  whimsical 
hobby — but  they  need  not  be  gone  into  just  now;  we 
will  learn  more  about  them  later  on. 

She  had  day-dreamed  of  some  time  possessing  just 
such  a  place  ever  since,  as  a  child,  she  had  fallen  under 
the  fascinations  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  masterpiece ;  and 
when  Bingham's  foster-father,  Mr.  Chester,  made  her  a 
belated  wedding  present  of  Myquest,  she  at  once  chose 
the  tall  bluff  over  the  ravine  as  the  proper  location  for 
the  fulfillment  of  her  lifelong  dream. 

So  she  mounted  the  steep  path  to  the  bottom  of  the 
stairs,  touching,  as  she  drew  near,  the  small  spring  that 
made  them  practicable,  and  pressing  upon  another  one 
after  she  entered  the  house,  which  restored  them  to 
their  former  condition  of  steep  and  smooth  inaccessi- 
bility ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  if  one  had  stood  at 
her  elbow  looking  on  while  she  performed  either  act, 
one  could  not  have  seen  her  do  it,  nor  have  told  how  it 
had  been  done. 

Then 

Sleep — blessed  sleep — contented  sleep.  The  sleep 
of  perfect  security,  of  utter  safety,  of  complete  se- 
clusion. Even  her  own  bedroom  in  the  great  house 
beyond  the  lake  had  never  been  so  much  her  home  as 
the  Nest.  There  she  could  be  found,  and  routed  out; 
at  the  Nest  there  was  no  such  possibility. 

Bing  would  know,  when  he  missed  her  in  the  morning, 
where  she  had  gone;  he  would  not  know  why,  but  he 


THE  FACE  IN  THE  FLAME  163 

would  not  be  impatient  to  know  even  that — and  if  he 
should  particularly  want  her,  there  did  exist  a  secret 
means  of  communication  between  the  two  places,  known 
only  to  themselves,  by  which  he  could  call  to  her. 

Katherine  slept. 

Within  the  great  house  Conrad  Belknap  also  slept — 
in  the  depths  of  a  big  chair  that  he  had  pulled  across 
the  floor  until  it  confronted  the  bathroom  door  beyond 
which  he  believed  that  Roberta  had  locked  herself  away 
from  him. 

And  thus,  upon  entering  softly,  Roberta  discovered 
him. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

FLINT    AND    STEEL 

ROBEBTA'S  entrance,  even  though  it  was  accomplished 
silently,  roused  Belknap,  and  he  was  wide  awake  on  the 
instant. 

He  yawned,  stretched  his  arms,  and  showed  his  teeth 
in  his  wolfish  smile.  He  wheeled  the  chair  slowly 
around  to  face  her,  without  leaving  it.  He  opened  his 
mouth  to  speak,  but  he  started  to  his  feet  instead, 
stared  an  instant  at  her,  and  then  sprang  to  the  bath- 
room door  and  seized  the  knob  of  it.  It  would  not 
open  at  his  touch,  of  course. 

He  had  known  that  even  before  he  made  the  effort. 

His  quick  and  observing  eyes  had  noticed  the  mois- 
ture of  dew  on  Roberta's  shoes.  He  knew,  in  that  in- 
stant, that  it  was  not  Roberta  who  was  locked  inside  of 
the  bathroom — who  had  been  locked  in  it — who  might 
be — who  doubtless  was — still  there. 

Again  he  started  to  speak  and  withheld  the  words 
he  would  have  uttered. 

He  had  seen  the  amazement  in  her  eyes  when  he 
sprang  to  the  door  and  attempted  to  open  it. 

His  first  thought  was  that  the  man  whom  she  had 
gone  out  earlier  to  meet  was  there ;  his  second  one  was 
the  same,  although  he  added  to  it  the  belief  that  Ro- 
berta was  unaware  of  the  fact.  Being  puzzled,  and  also 
intensely  curious,  he  was  silent. 

It  was  Roberta  who  spoke  first. 
164 


FLINT  AND  STEEL  165 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  she  demanded. 

"I  might  reply  by  asking  what  the  devil  you've  been 
doing  outside  of  the  house  a  second  time  to-night," 
he  answered. 

"Who  is  locked  in  the  bathroom?"  she  asked  in  utter 
amazement. 

"I  thought  you  were — until  this  moment." 

Roberta  shrugged.    She  did  not  believe  him. 

"Who  is  in  there?"  she  repeated. 

"I  don't  know — unless  it  is  the  man  you  expected 
here  to-night,"  he  answered,  leaving  his  chair  and 
standing  facing  her. 

"Then  why  don't  you  open  the  door  and  find  out?" 

"There  are  several  very  good  reasons  for  that,"  he 
drawled.  "I  could  not  use  the  forceps  because  the  chap 
inside  withdrew  the  key.  I  could  not  pick  the  lock  or 
force  the  door  because  I  haven't  my  tools  with  me — and 
I  didn't  think  it  wise  to  leave  the  room  long  enough 
to  get  them.  You  fooled  me,  you  see.  I  really  sup- 
posed that  you  were  the  person  in  the  bathroom." 

Roberta  was  plainly  puzzled — a  fact  which  Belknap 
was  not  slow  to  see. 

"Don't  you  know  who  is  in  there?"  he  demanded, 
bending  nearer  to  her. 

"No;  and  I  don't  believe  that  anybody  is  there.  It 
is  a  trick  of  some  sort  that  you  are  attempting,  C.  B. 
One  of  your  Machiavellian  schemes,  doubtless."  Her 
voice  and  manner  were  so  sincere  that  he  was  suddenly 
convinced  that  she  told  the  truth. 

"Was  somebody  besides  ourselves  in  this  room  when 
I  came  here  the  first  time?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"No.  Or,  if  there  was,  you  should  know  it.  You 
were  here  when  I  returned." 

"How  long  a  time  had  I  been  gone  when  you  went  out 
again  ?" 


166  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"I  don't  remember.  Five — ten  minutes.  Perhaps 
more  than  that." 

"And  I  was  gone  no  longer  than  that  when  I  re- 
turned. Somebody  was  here,  then.  Somebody  partly 
opened  the  door  into  the  hall  to  go  out ;  I  saw  the  door 
move,  but  I  did  not  see  the  person,  although  I  knew  that 

one  was  at  the  door.  That  person  locked  it  and It 

all  resolves  itself  into  the  fact  that  we  were  spied  upon. 
Somebody  knew  that  I  was  in  this  room  with  you  to- 
night, and  probably  overheard  our  conversation.  Do 
you  insist  that  you  do  not  know  who  that  person  was  ?" 

"I  not  only  do  not  know,  C.  B.,  but  I  don't  believe 
there  was  such  a  person.  I  don't  in  the  least  know 
what  you  are  up  to,  but  whatever  it  is  I  wish  you'd  un- 
lock that  door  and  have  done  with  it.  I  am  very  tired, 
and  I  want  to  undress  and  go  to  bed — but  I'd  like  you 
to  unlock  that  door  before  you  go.  Besides,  it  is  very 
late,  and  if  you  were  found  here " 

"You  would  be  compromised,  eh?" 

"Compromised!  As  if  you  could  compromise  me. 
I  care  less  than  that" — she  snapped  her  thumb  and 
finger  together  contemptuously — "about  such  compli- 
cations. In  fact,  I  would  welcome  such  an  interrup- 
tion. I'd  be  glad,  overjoyed,  right  now,  to  see  Bingham 
Harvard  himself  walk  into  this  room  followed  by  the 
entire  household.  It  would  not  result  in  my  undoing, 
but  in  yours.  I  would  betray  you,  wholly,  on  the 
spot — root,  trunk,  bark,  and  branch." 

Belknap  reached  out  and  seized  her  by  one  wrist  and 
held  it. 

"Listen  to  me,"  he  said,  speaking  with  cold  precision. 

"Well?"  she  demanded,  meeting  his  eyes  unflinching- 

iy- 

"I  can't  unlock  that  door — unless  I  leave  you  long 
enough  to  get  my  tools  to  do  it  with,  and  I  won't  bother 


FLINT  AND  STEEL  167 

to  do  that.  Whoever  went  into  that  bathroom  to  avoid 
me  has  probably  gone  out  of  it  by  way  of  the  window. 
It  is  big  enough  to  get  out  of,  and  it  isn't  much  of  a 
drop  to  the  ground  under  it.  That  incident  is  closed 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  But  I  want  answers  to  a 
few  questions.  When  you  have  made  them,  I  will  go. 
I  will  know  if  you  lie  to  me." 

"Ask  them." 

"Did  the  man  you  sent  for  come — and  did  you  see 
him  when  you  went  out  the  last  time?" 

"Yes."  " 

"It  was — "  he  went  on,  but  Roberta  interrupted  him. 

"Yes,"  she  said  again. 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"I  sent  him  away." 

"Why?" 

"Because  the  fact  that  you  had  discovered  that  I  had 
sent  for  him  spoiled  my  plan.  It  is  evident  enough, 
isn't  it?  Wait,  C.  B.  You  need  not  ask  questions;  I 
will  tell  you  all  that  I  will  say  in  almost  one  sentence. 
I  sent  for  Roderick  Maxwilton  to  come  here.  It  was 
my  wish  that  he  should  make  himself  known  to  his 
father  and  mother,  after  he  had  had  a  talk  with  his 
sister.  I  believed  that  I  could  persuade  him  to  do  it. 
In  case  he  should  insist  upon  not  doing  it,  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  to  go  away  with  him.  Is  that  plain  enough, 
C.  B.  ?" 

He  nodded. 

"If  he  consented  to  my  plan,  I  meant  to  bring  him 
directly  into  the  house,  to  Mrs.  Harvard's  room — and 
to-morrow  morning  you  would  have  seen  the  end  of 
your  career,  no  matter  what  the  consequences  might 
have  been  to  me,  or  to  him,  or  to  anybody.  You  spoiled 
both  or  either  of  those  plans  by  finding  and  reading  that 
letter.  It  told  you  that  I  had  sent  for  him,  and  you 


168  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

guessed  the  rest.  You  guessed  who  I  had  sent  for,  and 
why  I  had  summoned  him.  He  did  not  come  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour.  I  decided  that  he  declined  both  of  my 
pleas :  the  one  to  make  himself  known  to  his  parents — 
because  he  dreads  the  effect  of  it  upon  them  as  much  as 
his  sister  does ;  and  the  other  one  (in  case  he  refused  the 
first),  my  offer  to  go  away  with  him  to  the  other  side 
of  the  world — away  from  you  and  your  schemes,  for- 
ever and  ever.  If  he  had  taken  me  at  my  word  in  that 
I  would  have  gone  with  him — and  that  is  why  I  wrote 
and  left  that  letter  for  Mrs.  Harvard,  that  you  found 
and  read.  When  I  returned  and  found  you  here,  and 
knew  that  you  had  read  my  letter,  both  of  my  plans, 
or  either  of  them,  were  spoiled — particularly  that  one 
upon  which  I  had  hoped  the  most:  to  go  away  with 
Roderick  Maxwilton,  and  to  escape  from  you  forever." 

While  Roberta  talked,  Belknap  regarded  her  with  a 
careless,  although  inscrutable  smile.  There  was  a  com- 
mingling of  amusement,  interest,  and  concern  in  his 
expression.  He  had  succeeded  in  removing  nearly  all 
of  the  outward  evidences  of  his  encounter  with  Bing 
Harvard  under  the  tree,  and  he  was  really  handsome — 
even  if  a  trifle  diabolical — in  the  green  tint  of  the  shade 
over  the  desk-light.  He  shrugged  when  she  finished. 

"Sometime,"  he  said,  "I  wonder  why  you  don't  take 
yourself  off  with  your  Roddy-Max.  You  have  suc- 
ceeded so  well  in  keeping  him  out  of  my  sight  that  it  is 
a  little  bit  strange  that  you  don't  get  out  of  it,  too — 
only,  I  guess  you  know  mighty  well  that  you  couldn't 
keep  out  of  it.  Also  I  sometimes  wonder  why — since  I 
wouldn't  know  him  by  sight — he  doesn't  slip  a  knife  be- 
tween my  ribs,  or  put  a  bullet  into  me ;  one  more  crime 
to  his  record  would  not  make  him  so  much  worse  off 
than  he  is  now.  But  I  guess  that " 

He  stopped,  for  Roberta's  eyes  were  suddenly  glow- 


FLINT  AND  STEEL  169 

ing.  His  words  had  given  her  an  idea.  Roderick  had 
said  nothing  about  it  in  their  interview,  but  then,  that 
would  be  like  him — to  keep  silent. 

She  spoke  quickly,  impulsively.      She  said: 

"There  are  marks  of  recent  scratches  on  your  face, 
C.  B.  You  have  tried  to  hide  them,  but  they  are  there. 
I  saw  you  fighting,  under  the  trees,  to-night.  Oh,  yes, 
I  saw  enough  to  understand  what  was  happening;  and 
I  know  now,  by  your  manner  and  your  words,  that  you 
have  not  read  the  message  I  dropped  to  you  from  my 
balcony,  and  so,  it  follows  that  the  man  you  were 
struggling  with  took  it  from  you.  Has  is  occurred  to 
you  that  the  man  might  have  been  'Roddy-Max,'  as  you 
like  to  call  him,  in  the  belief  that  it  angers  me?" 

Belknap  was,  however,  above  being  disturbed  by  that 
suggestion.  He  only  shrugged  again,  and  smiled  the 
more ;  and  another  idea,  Roberta's  original  one  about 
the  affair,  recurred  to  her. 

"Or,"  she  added,  "perhaps  it  was  Harvard  himself; 
the  Night  Wind." 

"More  likely  than  the  other,  but  equally  absurd," 
he  agreed,  still  smiling.  "Either  of  them  might  have 
taken  your  message,  having  seen  you  drop  it,  but  nei- 
ther of  them  would  have  stolen  my  money,  and  watch, 
and  stick-pin.  Oh,  no;  that  man  was  an  accident — a 
wandering  yegg — the  subsequent  porch-climber  of  Mme. 
Savage's  room,  doubtless.  But,  really,  Berta,  I  don't 
care  so  much  as  the  flip  of  a  coin  who  it  might  have 
been.  However,  since  you  have  reminded  me  of  the 
message,  what  was  it?" 

"It  was — "  she  began,  and  stopped ;  then  she  added : 
" — of  no  importance.  The  reason  for  it  has  ceased 
to  exist." 

Then,  before  he  could  stop  her,  she  stepped  quickly 
past  him  to  the  door  into  the  hall  and  opened  it. 


170  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Go,"  she  said.  "If  you  stay  here  another  minute 
I  will  go  to  Mrs.  Harvard's  door  and  call  her." 

Belknap  smiled  more  broadly  than  ever;  he  bestowed 
a  mocking  bow. 

"Monday  I  shall  ask  you  to  be  my  partner  at 
bridge,"  he  said  coolly,  and  went  from  the  room. 

Roberta  closed  the  door  after  him,  locked  it,  with- 
drew the  key,  and  stuffed  a  corner  of  her  handkerchief 
into  the  hole. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE    FORBIDDEN    NAME 

KATHERINE  had  not  forgotten  her  father's  lifelong 
habit  of  early  rising,  so,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
it  was  after  three  o'clock  that  Sunday  morning  when 
she  lost  herself  in  sleep  at  the  Nest,  she  was  wide  awake 
again  soon  after  five. 

It  was  a  bright  and  beautiful  morning  in  June,  as 
near  to  perfection  as  one  might  wish. 

Having  selected  a  dainty  morning  costume  from  the 
abundant  wardrobe  that  she  kept  at  the  Nest,  she  stood 
at  one  of  the  windows  that  overlooked  the  lake,  beyond 
which  a  three-pronged  vista  through  the  trees  and 
shrubbery  beyond  it  had  purposely  been  trimmed  out  so 
as  to  command  three  distinct  views  of  the  house. 

After  a  little  time,  as  she  had  anticipated,  she  saw 
the  tall,  dignified  figure  of  her  father  as  he  descended 
the  front  steps  from  the  veranda  and  paused  at  the 
bottom  of  them  while  with  uplifted  head  he  seemed  to 
be  drinking  in  the  beauty  and  peace  of  that  perfect 
morning.  So  she  went  to  him,  touching  the  proper 
mechanical  buttons  as  she  left  the  Nest  to  restore  it  to 
its  wonted  condition  of  somnolence  and  isolation. 

Truly  it  was  a  wonderful  place,  the  Nest,  with  its 
hidden  secrets  and  mysterious  mechanical  contrivances 
— more  wonderful  and  marvelous,  indeed,  than  Kather- 
ine  had  intended  it  to  be  in  the  beginning,  or  than  she 
had  dared  to  hope  that  it  could  be  made;  but,  as 

171 


172  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

has  been  said,  Bingham  had  given  her  a  free  hand  in 
the  construction  of  it,  and  there  had  been  no  counting 
of  its  cost. 

Imported  labor  from  far  and  near,  the  best  mechan- 
ical geniuses  that  could  be  found  in  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land,  and  the  highest  skilled  artisans  in 
every  branch  of  the  work  required,  had  alike  given  the 
best  that  was  in  them  to  the  working  out  of  Kath- 
erine's  desires  and  plans,  and  her  plans  had  broadened, 
and  lengthened,  and  deepened  as  they  were  fulfilled  one 
by  one;  others  had  been  added  to  them  until  the  Nest 
became,  under  the  skilled  touches  of  those  workmen,  a 
veritable  network  of  hidden  secrets  and  mysteries  that 
were  almost  unbelievable  until  one  actually  witnessed 
the  workings  out  of  them. 

The  Nest  was  created  in  the  second  decade  of  the 
twentieth  century,  when  every  perfected  device  and 
power  of  our  own  wonderful  and  marvelous  age  was 
available. 

Where  hydraulic  power  was  needed,  the  lake  supplied 
it.  Whatever  of  electricity  was  required,  the  lake  sup- 
plied that,  too,  through  the  hydraulics — for  the  Nest 
had  its  own  small  dynamo,  its  own  storage  batteries, 
and  was  not  dependent  upon  outside  sources  for  the 
working  of  its  mysteries.  Whatever  of  compressed-air 
resourcefulness  was  employed  in  the  operation  of  heavy 
steel  blinds  and  doors,  and  the  like,  was  produced  from 
that  same  placid  source,  the  lake.  Nature  has  not 
blessed  us  with  another  power  so  manifestly  stupendous 
as  the  pressure  of  water. 

Ah,  yes,  the  Nest  was  a  wonderful  place,  indeed — 
as  we  will  discover. 

Katherine  passed  outside  in  that  early  Sunday  morn- 
ing in  June,  and  went  swiftly  to  her  father,  former 
Senator  Maxwiiton,  "the  Senator  from  Kentucky." 


THE  FORBIDDEN  NAME  173 

"It  is  such  a  comfort  to  have  you  here  with  me," 
she  said  softly  as  she  slipped  a  hand  under  his  arm,  and 
they  strolled  along  one  of  the  paths  which  would  lead, 
ultimately,  to  the  stables — for  well  Katherine  knew 
that  they  would  have  been  his  goal  that  early  morning 
had  he  been  left  to  his  own  devices.  The  Senator  was 
all  Kentuckian  in  his  love  for  horses,  and  Katherine's 
inheritance  of  that  love  had  not  been  marred  or  lessened 
by  the  high-powered  cars  in  her  husband's  garage. 

"I  want  you  to  see  Daniel  Boone,  3rd,"  she  said, 
while  her  father  gently  patted  the  hand  that  clung  to 
him.  "I  call  him  just  Dan,  and  he  knows  his  name 
so  well — all  of  it,  I  mean — that  it  would  make  you  smile 
to  see  his  appreciation  of  the  different  uses  of  it  that  I 
make.  You  see,  he  is  very  playful,  and  awfully  mis- 
chievous. When  he  is  just  a  little  bit  naughty,  I  say, 
in  a  surprised  and  dignified  way,  'Daniel !'  and  he  looks 
as  conscious  as  can  be.  When  he  is  very  mischievous, 
I  say,  'Why,  Daniel  Boone !'  and  he  drops  his  ears  and 
his  tail  and  looks  as  sorry  out  of  his  eyes  as  a  chided 
puppy-dog.  Then,  when  I  think  he  is  thoroughly  re- 
pentant, I  say,  'All  right,  Dan!'  and  instantly  he 
arches  his  neck,  lifts  his  crupper,  and  dances  like  a  hap- 
py child,  nozzling  with  all  his  might  to  express  his 
affection.  Really,  father,  he  almost  talks." 

The  Senator  nodded.     It  was  his  favorite  topic. 

"He's  a  thoroughbred,  Kitten;  he  almost  ought  to 
talk,"  he  replied.  "Let's  see,  he's  almost  five — five  next 
month.  He  was  just  three  when  I  sent  him  to  you. 
He  ought  to  be  a  beauty  by  now." 

"A  beauty !  Well,  I  should  say  so.  He  walked  off 
with  the  blue  ribbon  in  his  class  at  the  horse  show 
without  a  competitor  that  approached  him.  The  judges 
pronounced  him  an  absolutely  perfect  animal." 

"Of     course,"     the     Senator   replied     complacently. 


174  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"That  is  what  he  is.  I  could  have  told  the  judges 
that  without  their  bothering  about  it.  That  is  the 
only  kind  we  raise  on  the  old  place,  Kitten.  I  hope 
nobody  rides  him  but  yourself." 

"Certainly  not.  That  is  to  say,  of  course  Smokie. 
He  is  almost  as  fond  of  that  boy  as  he  is  of  me. 
Sometimes  I'm  almost  jealous." 

The  Senator  laughed. 

"Kitten,"  he  said,  "that  horse  knows  how  to  keep 
Smokie  in  his  place  just  as  well  as  you  do.  He  knows, 
just  as  well  as  we  do,  that  Smokie  is  a  little  black 
boy  that's  his  servant,  made  to  wait  on  him,  and  he 
loves  him  in  just  the  same  way  that  we  love  our  colored 
people  who  serve  us  faithfully  and  long.  Here  we  are. 
Has  Bingham  added  any  new  stock  to  his  stable  since 
last  year?" 

"Just  an  Irish  hunter  that  was  a  present.  I'll  have 
him  brought  out  so  you  can  see  him." 

Thus  father  and  daughter  inspected  the  stables,  talk- 
ing horse,  laughing  together  over  the  Senator's  criti- 
cisms and  suggestions — father  and  daughter  chums,  as 
they  had  been  in  the  past,  before  Katherine  went  to 
New  York — for  this  morning,  beside  her  father,  with 
the  mysteries  and  perplexities  of  the  past  night  tem- 
porarily forgotten,  Katherine  was  a  girl  again. 

When  they  came  away  from  the  stables  and  started 
to  return  to  the  house,  Katherine  was  laughing  merrily 
over  one  of  her  father's  inimitable  stories  of  the  doings 
of  his  black  retainers  on  the  stock  farm — and  so  they 
rounded  the  end  of  the  piazza  where  they  met  Bing- 
ham. 

"Now,  that's  too  bad!"  Bing  exclaimed  with  mock 
regret.  "I  guessed  that  you  two  were  at  the  stables 
together,  and  I  was  going  to  approach  stealthily  so 


THE  FORBIDDEN  NAME  175 

as  to  hear  what  the  Senator  had  to  say  about  Erin,  the 
Irish  hunter." 

The  three  breakfasted  together  on  a  side  piazza, 
and  were  greatly  surprised,  and  not  a  little  pleased, 
when,  before  it  was  half  finished,  Katherine's  mother 
joined  them — for  early  rising  was  not  a  habit  with 
Lady  Kate's  delicate,  flowerlike  mother. 

"You  see,"  she  explained  to  Bingham,  "I  knew  that 
Katherine  and  her  father  would  inspect  the  stables  to- 
gether as  soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  and  I  reckoned  that 
you  wouldn't  be  very  far  off,  Bingham,  so  I  thought 
it  would  be  nice  if  'papa  and  mama  and  the  children' 
could  have  their  breakfast  together."  Her  smile  was 
good  to  see,  then. 

Bing  put  his  arms  around  the  fragile  but  stately  lady 
of  the  old  South,  and  kissed  her. 

"God  bless  you,  mother,"  he  said,  holding  her  and 
speaking  very  low.  "You  make  me  very  happy — more 
happy  than  I  can  tell  you — because  you  are  the  only 
mother  I  ever  knew." 

"And  Bingham,"  she  replied,  "you  are  just  as  near 
and  dear  to  me  as  you  could  be  if  I  were  indeed  your 
own  mother,  in  fact — as  if  you  were  my  own  son,  my 
very  own."  Then,  with  just  a  suggestion  of  hesitation, 
she  added:  "Katherine  had  a  brother  Roderick,  my 
first  born,  my  hope,  my  pride,  my  idolatry.  We  lost 
him.  He  is  buried  in  Kentucky.  I — I  have  given  you 
a  place  in  my  heart  close  beside  his  memory,  Bingham, 
my  son." 

The  Senator  sat  very  still  and  erect. 

Katherine  lifted  her  eyes  to  her  mother  in  amaze- 
ment and  repressed  joy. 

It  was  the  first  time  in  many  years  that  Roderick 
had  been  mentioned  openly  between  the  daughter  and 
her  parents. 


176  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

That  Sunday  passed  uneventfully,  save  for  a  few 
minor  incidents  which  seemed,  on  the  surface,  to  be  of 
no  importance,  but  each  of  which  was  destined  to  be 
recalled  later  by  those  most  interested.  In  the  order 
of  their  happening  they  were : 

1.  Former  Detective-lieutenant    Rodney    Rushton, 
now  at  the  head  of  an  agency  of  his  own,  stopped  for 
an  hour  at  Myquest  in  the  middle  of  the   forenoon 
( "ong-passong,"  as  he  expressed  it),  to  pay  his  re- 
spects, as,  indeed,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing  when- 
ever opportunity  offered. 

His  real  purpose  was,  of  course,  in  response  to  Tom 
Clancy's  suggestion,  and  to  give  Mr.  Conrad  Belknap 
what  Rushton  called  "the  once-over,"  which  is  to  say, 
to  have  an  opportunity  to  observe  the  man  carefully,  to 
recall,  if  possible,  any  memory  of  him  of  the  past, 
or,  failing  that,  to  provide  a  memory  of  him  for  future 
occasion ;  for  Rushton  possessed  to  a  large  extent  what 
in  police  parlance  is  known  as  the  "camera  eye." 

2.  A  stranger  came  to  Myquest  in  the  early  evening 
— a  tall,  soldierlike  figure  of  a  man,  who  might  have 
been  handsome  of  feature  but  for  a  terrible  disfigure- 
ment of  his  face  caused  by  a  livid  scar  that  extended 
from  the  top  of  his  forehead  above  the  left  eye,  down 
and  over  the  left  eyelid,  across  the  bridge  of  his  nose, 
past  the  right  corner  of  his  mouth  to  which  it  appeared 
to  impart  a  sardonic  twist,  and  thence  on,  under  the 
right  cheek  bone  until  it  disappeared  beneath  his  collar. 

His  hair  was  abundant,  and  of  the  whiteness  of  fresh 
milk,  although  his  brows  were  coal  black.  If  you  ob- 
served him  when  his  back  was  toward  you,  and  were 
asked  to  guess  his  age,  you  would  have  placed  him  as 
anywhere  from  thirty  to  forty-five,  and  prematurely 
white ;  but  if  in  the  next  breath  he  turned  to  face  you, 
and  you  had  noticed  the  scar,  and  the  lines  between 


THE  FORBIDDEN  NAME  177 

his  eyes  and  radiating  from  their  corners,  you  would 
have  amplified  your  own  statement  with,  "anywhere 
from  forty-five  to  sixty,  but  with  an  extraordinary 
physique  and  bearing." 

He  arrived,  also,  so  it  would  appear,  en  passant — 
like  Rushton ;  which  is  to  say  that  one  of  Harvard's 
friends  who  was  also  a  banker,  with  whom  he  was 
motoring,  stopped  for  a  short  call  in  passing. 

Naturally  the  stranger  was  duly  presented  to  the 
guests  who  were  present  at  the  time,  and  was  made 
welcome,  and  notwithstanding  the  hideous  scar  on  his 
face,  he  seemed  to  cast  some  sort  of  a  charm  or  spell 
upon  those  with  whom  he  chatted,  while  Harvard  and 
his  banker  friend  strolled  up  and  down,  almost — but 
not  quite — within  ordinary  conversational  distance 
from  the  veranda. 

The  senorita  was  not  present.  She  left  the  group 
and  entered  the  house  through  one  of  the  French  win- 
dows just  at  the  moment  when  Mr.  Morton  Saulsbury's 
car  was  driven  under  the  porte-cochere — and  during 
all  of  the  time  that  the  callers  remained,  she  sat  at  the 
piano,  playing  softly,  modulating  from  key  to  key,  and 
from  major  to  minor  and  back  again.  To  Betty  Clancy, 
who  was  very  still  and  silent  in  her  chair  near  the  rail, 
listening  to  and  observing  the  stranger  with  the  scar,  it 
seemed  almost  as  if  the  senorita  were  indeed  talking 
to  all  of  them  at  once  with  her  magic  fingers. 

Belknap  was  present — and  was  strangely  silent — for 
him.  When  the  stranger  appeared  he  pushed  his  chair 
into  a  deeper  shadow. 

The  call  did  not  extend  beyond  twenty  minutes,  but 
nevertheless  it  seemed  to  have  left  a  marked  impression 
— particularly  in  regard  to  Mr.  Carruthers.  A  dif- 
ferent one,  too,  it  appeared,  with  each  of  the  Myquest 
guests  to  whom  he  was  presented. 


178  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

When  it  came  to  an  end — when  Bingham  and  his 
banker  friend  having  concluded  their  conference,  re- 
turned to  the  veranda,  and  the  latter  announced  to 
Carruthers  that  they  had  better  be  on  their  way,  and 
the  two  had  got  into  the  car  to  depart — Bing  called 
out,  suddenly,  and  with  every  outward  appearance  that 
a  happy  thought  had  just  occurred  to  him: 

"Wait  a  moment,  Saulsbury,  I  have  got  an  idea," 
and  he  half  turned  his  head  and  shot  a  smiling  glance 
at  his  wife  before  he  added : 

"When  we  came  down  to  Myquest  it  was  our  inten- 
tion to  have  a  series  of  week-ends  throughout  the  sum- 
mer, but  this  one  has  developed  into  a  house-party, 
instead."  Bing  had  again  turned  his  back  toward 
the  group  on  the  veranda  and  was  addressing  only  his 
banker  friend,  but  he  spoke  with  a  distinctness  that 
rendered  every  word  he  uttered  plain  to  all. 

"I  am  a  bit  seedy,  myself,  and  although  I  shall 
probably  drive  into  the  city  now  and  then  just  to  look 
things  over,  I  have  decided  to  stay  down  here  this  week 
— and  possibly  next  week,  also — for  a  little  vacation 
and  rest,  and  I'm  going  to  ask  Clancy  to  do  the  same. 
Hell  do  it,  too.  Tom  nearly  always  does  what  I  sug- 
gest. But  the  thing  that  I'm  getting  at  is  this:  why 
can't  you  and  Mrs.  Saulsbury  join  us,  for  this  week 
anyhow,  and  bring  Mr.  Carruthers  along?  Eh?  Just 
say  that  you  will,  and  come  along  down  as  early  as 
possible  to-morrow." 

Katherine,  who,  after  greeting  Saulsbury  and  his 
companion,  had  withdrawn  from  the  group,  and  was 
hovering  in  the  background,  listened  to  her  husband's 
totally  unanticipated  announcement  in  unconcealed 
amazement — a  fact  which  Belknap  was  quick  to  notice 
as  he  shot  a  glance  at  her  beneath  half-drooped  eye- 
lids. 


THE  FORBIDDEN  NAME  179 

He  left  his  chair  and  strolled  carelessly  toward  her 
with  his  ears  keyed  to  catch  Saulsbury's  reply,  and 
he  knew  that  Katherine  was  waiting  for  it  as  eagerly 
as  he  was,  although  he  could  not  guess  what  her  interest 
in  it  might  be. 

But  Katherine  acted  quickly,  accepting  Bing's  cue, 
and  acting  upon  it  as  he  threw  another  quick  glance 
over  his  shoulder  in  her  direction. 

Before  Belknap  could  get  to  her — before  Morton 
Saulsbury  had  opportunity  to  respond  to  the  invitation 
so  cordially  given,  she  stepped  quickly  forward  and 
down  the  steps  to  her  husband's  side. 

"Do,  Mr.  Saulsbury,"  she  said.  "I  shall  be  delighted 
to  have  Miriam  with  us ;  and" — she  permitted  her  gaze 
for  a  moment  to  rest  upon  the  scarred  visage  of  Daniel 
Carruthers — "I  am  sure  that  Mr.  Carruthers  will  find 
it  possible  to  come  with  you,  for  I  heard  him  say  only 
a  moment  ago,  to  Miss  Loring,  that  he  is  idling  his  time 
with  you  because  he  had  found  that  he  has  a  month's 
time  on  his  hands  with  nothing  to  do." 

"I  fear  that  I  am  too  busy  just  now  to  accept  for 
myself,  Mrs.  Harvard,"  Saulsbury  replied  smilingly, 
"but  there  is  no  reason  why  Miriam  can't  come,  nor 
why  Dan  Carruthers  cannot  come  with  her.  Eh,  Dan? 
You  can  do  that,  can't  you?  And  I'll  come  down  Fri- 
day afternoon  for  the  week-end." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Carruthers  would  arrive  with 
Mrs.  Saulsbury  the  following  day,  and  the  banker  de- 
parted with  his  scarred-face  companion. 

Then  happened  the  third  incident  which  several  of 
the  group  on  the  veranda  were  to  recall  to  mind  later. 

The  butler  came  out  to  them,  crossed  directly  to 
Belknap,  and  announced: 

"You  are  wanted  at  the  telephone,  Mr.  Belknap — 


180  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

a  long-distance  call — from  the  city  of  Washington,  the 
operator  said." 

Belknap  thanked  the  butler,  and  with  a  nod  of 
apology  toward  the  others  in  general,  entered  the  house. 

Instantly  there  was  a  chorus  of  exclamations  and 
interrogations  all  around  Bing  and  Katherine  concern- 
ing the  stranger  whom  Saulsbury  had  brought  to  My- 
quest  in  his  car,  and  who  was,  thenceforth,  to  be  of 
their  party. 

They  all  agreed  that  he  was  interesting,  and  would 
have  been  strikingly  handsome  but  for  the  disfiguring 
scar  across  his  face.  Diana  Loring  thought  that  the 
scar  was  the  most  fascinating  thing  about  him.  Betty 
announced  that,  "Scar  or  no  scar,  I  think  he  is  splen- 
did," and  Tom,  grinning  while  he  lighted  a  cigar,  asked : 

"Who  the  devil  is  he,  anyway,  Bing?  Banker  or 
baker  or  candlestick  maker?  And,  for  the  sake  of  a 
few  of  the  ladies  present,  is  he  benedict,  widower,  or 
bachelor?  That  is  the  main  idea.  Is  he  married  or 
single?"  to  which  Bing  replied: 

"Search  me,  Tom.  He  is  Morton  Saulsbury's  friend, 
and  that's  enough  for  me  !" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  KENTUCKY 

IN  mid-June  the  sun  gets  up  early. 

So  do  babies,  and  small  children,  and  old  people — 
and  such  others  as  love  the  air  and  the  sunlight  and  the 
freshness  of  the  early  morning  hours,  while  the  dew  is 
on  the  grass  and  leaves,  and  the  air  is  as  if  it  has  been 
washed  and  polished,  and  hung  out  to  dry. 

Senator  Maxwilton  was  one  of  such ;  and  that  morn- 
ing was  like  the  preceding  one,  although  Katherine  was 
not  waiting  to  greet  him  as  she  had  been  yesterday. 

The  earliest  of  the  servants  invariably  encountered 
him  in  one  of  the  paths,  or  saw  him  seated  upon  one  of 
the  veranda  chairs,  or  found  him  in  the  stables  among 
the  hunters  and  cobs,  petting  them,  and  feeding  them 
sugar.  The  Senator  was  a  typical  Kentuckian,  and 
loved  horses. 

He  came  out  that  Monday  morning  with  the  first 
rays  of  sunlight — came  out,  as  had  been  his  habit  in 
his  own  Southern  home,  and  continued  in  his  daughter's, 
by  one  of  the  windows. 

His  movements,  without  intention,  happened  to  be 
noiseless,  and  as  he  stepped  outside  he  saw  Belknap — 
and  was  on  the  point  of  going  forward  and  speaking 
to  the  man  who  "had  beat  him  to  it,"  when  some  in- 
definable thing  about  Belknap's  attitude  made  him  hesi- 
tate, and  then  step  backward,  within  the  window,  where 
he  stood  still,  and  observing. 

181 


182  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

He  had  not  seen  Belknap  about  at  that  hour  be- 
fore, and,  although  in  riding  togs,  the  man  appeared 
to  be  without  intention  of  seeking  the  stables. 

More  than  that,  he  was  passing  up  and  down  a  short 
stretch  of  pathway  in  the  vicinity  of  Katherine's  favor- 
ite rose-bower,  and  glancing  this  way  and  that,  from 
side  to  side,  in  front  of,  and  behind  him,  furtively,  and 
with  rapid  motions,  exactly  as  if  he  were  on  the  watch 
for  something  or  for  somebody. 

Belknap  had  been  there — and  elsewhere  among  the 
paths — two  hours  and  more,  if  the  Senator  had  but 
known  it,  and  was  both  exultant  and  disappointed,  both 
pleased  and  angry,  both  annoyed  and  delighted;  like- 
wise, and  without  the  paradox,  he  was  tired  of  his 
vigil. 

The  long-distance-telephone  conversation  to  which 
the  butler  had  summoned  him  the  preceding  evening, 
had  in  a  measure  upset  many  of  his  calculations,  al- 
though he  was  inclined  to  doubt  the  logic  as  well  as 
the  fact  of  the  warning  that  had  been  transmitted  to 
him  from  Washington. 

Nevertheless  he  had  passed  a  more  or  less  sleepless 
night,  and  with  daybreak,  before  the  sun  was  up,  he  had 
donned  riding  togs — as  being  the  most  appropriate 
and  palpable  explanation  for  being  about  so  early — 
and  had  gone  outside. 

There  was  a  threefold  purpose  in  that :  he  wanted  the 
air  and  the  exercise ;  he  wanted  to  secure  a  saddle  horse 
from  the  stables  at  rather  an  early  hour,  to  ride  alone 
to  meet  a  messenger  at  an  appointed  place  as  an- 
nounced in  the  telephone  talk  the  preceding  evening; 
and,  quite  an  important  and  imperative  in  case  there 
were  logic  and  fact  (and  therefore  danger  to  him)  in 
what  he  frad  been  told  and  what  the  expected  messenger 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  KENTUCKY   183 

was  yet  to  impart,  he  greatly  desired  a  short  but  un- 
interrupted conversation  with  Katherine  Harvard. 

He  knew  that  it  was  her  habit  to  rise  early,  and  to 
ride  Daniel  Boone,  3rd,  cross-country,  and  alone,  at 
sunrise  or  soon  thereafter,  over  the  extensive  acres 
of  her  own  estate  of  Myquest.  Belknap  had  no  notion 
of  accompanying  her — he  had  other  fish  to  fry  that 
morning — but  he  had  determined  that  he  would  see 
her  and  talk  with  her  before  she  started,  and  so,  he  was 
watching  out  for  her  when  the  Senator  stepped  from 
the  window  and  saw  him. 

He  did  not  discover  the  nearness  of  the  Senator — 
when  the  latter,  grown  tired  of  watching  him  from  the 
window,  approached — until,  close  at  hand,  he  heard 
the  quiet  deep-toned  voice  of  the  statesman  greeting 
him. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Belknap,"  the  Senator  said. 
"Have  you  been  riding  so  early?" 

"Ah.  Good  morning,  Senator,"  Belknap  replied  in 
his  imperturbable  manner.  "No ;  I  haven't  been  riding 
— yet.  It  was  earlier  than  I  supposed  when  I  came 
out.  Nobody  was  about  when  I  went  to  the  stables." 

"You  were" — the  Senator  smiled — "searching  for 
something?  I  have  been  observing  you  from  the  win- 
dow. Have  you  dropped  something,  or  lost  something, 
or" — again  that  inscrutable  Senatorial  smile — "per- 
haps there  is  another  early  riser  whom  you  are  expect- 
ing?" 

"You  have  guessed  it,  Senator,"  Belknap  responded, 
returning  the  smile  in  kind  if  inscrutability  be  the 
criterion.  "Mrs.  Harvard,  your  daughter,  is  in  the 
habit  of  indulging  in  early  morning  rides,  cross-coun- 
try. I  thought  I'd  beg  permission  to  ride  with  her, 
but — the  men  must  be  about  by  now  so  I  think  I'll  go 
ahead." 


184  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Why  not  wait  a  little  longer?  I  don't  know  if  she 
intends  to  ride  this  morning  or  not,  but  she  is  sure  to 
come  out  soon.  She  always  gets  up  with  the  sun,  no 
matter  at  what  hour  she  retires.  And,  by  the  way, 
since  we  have  met  so  auspiciously  this  delightful  morn- 
ing, I  am  reminded  of  a  question  that  I  have  wanted 
to  ask  you." 

"Yes?" 

"Are  you,  by  any  chance,  related^-kin,  we  would 
call  it — to  the  Beldings,  of  Kentucky?" 

Belknap,  who  had  not  lessened  his  watchfulness  over 
the  approaches  to  the  house,  and  who  was  still  casting 
furtive  glances  along  the  path  that  led  to  it,  narrowed 
his  eyes  a  trifle,  and  an  almost  imperceptible  crease 
showed  between  his  brows  when  the  question  was  put  to 
him.  It  was  as  if  he  were  startled  by  it,  although  he 
replied  instantly,  and  smiled  as  he  did  so: 

"Not  by  any  chance  in  the  world,  Senator."  He 
laughed  aloud,  then.  "Have  you  discovered  a  fancied 
resemblance  ?" 

"No.  Not  a  resemblance — not  a  facial  one,  cer- 
tainly." 

Belknap  made  no  comment.    The  Senator  continued : 

"I  should  call  the  resemblance,  if  there  is  one — a 
reminder,  would  be  a  more  appropriate  word — tem- 
peramental ;  a  trait,  rather  than  a  likeness.  I  am — er 
— pleased  to  know  that  you  are  not  a  kin  to  the  Beld- 
ings of  my  acquaintance,  sir." 

"Thank  you.  I  assume  that  you  are  not  favorably 
disposed  toward  them." 

"Was  not.  The  branch  of  the  family  that  I  refer 
to  has  died  out.  I — er — assisted  at  the  last— er — 
function,  so  to  speak.  He  was  named  Cranshaw  Bel- 
ding.  He — er — was  hung." 

"Were  you  the  hangman?" 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  KENTUCKY   185 

The  Senator  ignored  the  insolence  of  the  question ; 
possibly  he  did  not  notice  it.  He  answered  quietly: 

"No.  I  sentenced  him.  I  was  on  the  bench,  then. 
He  murdered  the  mother  of  his  child — a  woman  who 
was  not  his  wife,  although  she  believed  that  she  was — 
but  who  nevertheless,  had  been  his  good  angel,  or  had 
tried  to  be.  He — er — escaped  with  the  boy,  after  he 
had  killed  the  mother,  and  was  not  caught  till  two 
years  later.  After  his  trial,  after  sentence  was  passed 
upon  him,  he  announced  that  he  had  killed  the  boy  also. 
I  have  always — er — hoped  that  he  did  so,  although  I 
didn't  believe  him  at  the  time.  That  boy  would  be — 
let  me  see — thirty-five  or  so,  by  now,  if  he  is  living." 
The  Senator  seemed  to  be  reminiscing  rather  than  ad- 
dressing Belknap.  Thinking  aloud,  rather  than  talk- 
ing. 

Belknap  was  plainly  frowning.  He  had  ceased  to 
watch  the  approaches  to  the  house  or  its  entrances. 
He  was  standing  very  still,  staring  straight  ahead  of 
him  without  motion,  apparently  without  the  flicker 
of  an  eyelash. 

His  lips  were  drawn  tightly  together  over  his  teeth, 
in  a  straight  line;  a  physiognomist  would  have  said 
that  he  was  straining  every  effort  in  his  power  for 
self-control — as,  indeed,  he  was. 

He  spoke,  after  a  moment,  in  a  low,  monotonous 
tone,  devoid  of  anger,  but  nevertheless  coldly  ominous. 

"Your  remarks,  Senator  Maxwilton,  are  capable  of 
unpleasant  inference.  Am  I  to  assume  that  you  so 
intended  them,  sir?" 

"God  bless  my  soul,  no !  Forgive  me,  Mr.  Belknap. 
I  was  dreaming — remembering — harking  back  into  the 
past.  I  hated — I  disliked  that  man  greatly." 

"I  see.  The  girl,  also,  doubtless ;  the  mother  of  the 
boy." 


186  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"No.  I  honored  and  esteemed  her.  She  did  not 
know  that  she  was  not  a  wife.  It  was  because  she  dis- 
covered the  truth  that  Cranshaw  Belding  killed  her. 
She  was  a — she  belonged  to  one  of  our  oldest  and  best 
families." 

Very  slowly  Bclknap  withdrew  his  gaze  from  the  dis- 
tance— distance  is  the  precise  word  for  it  in  this  case, 
for  the  Senator's  remarks  had  expelled  from  his 
thoughts  all  immediate  recollection  of  the  expected 
messenger,  and  of  Katherine.  Although  he  seemed 
to  continue  to  stare  at  the  house,  he  was  visualizing 
other  things. 

"Senator,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  seemed  to  carry  a 
chill  with  it,  "if  the  idea  were  not  preposterous  I  might 
easily  infer  that  you  are  seeking  to  connect  me,  in  some 
remote  way,  with  your  retrospective  remarks.  Such  a 
thing  would  be  absurd,  naturally — particularly  so, 
since  it  is  not  even  a  fancied  resemblance  that  brought 
back  the  memories.  You  called  it  a  trait — I  suppose 
you  meant  a  mannerism,  didn't  you?  What  was  it, 
pray,  that  brought  to  mind  the  memory  of  your  .friend, 
the  wife-killer?  For,  if  the  woman  honestly  believed 
herself  to  be  a  wife,  she  was  one.  No  lack  of  priests  or 
proper  ritual,  no  absence  of  prescribed  sacrament, 
could  deny  that  sanctity  to  her.  What  was  the  man- 
nerism, Senator?" 

The  Senator,  like  many  Kentuckians,  was  tall  and 
straight.  Age  had  not  bent  his  soldierly  figure,  nor 
wasted  it.  He  carried  his  years  without  a  suggestion 
of  them,  and  one  found  it  only  in  his  wealth  of  snow- 
white  hair. 

He  met  Belknap's  gaze  calmly,  looking  down  upon 
the  man  from  his  greater  height,  and  said,  with  slow 
emphasis  and  quiet  dignity : 

"I  have  offered  my  apology,  Mr.  Belknap." 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  KENTUCKY   187 

"Quite  so,  sir;  and  I  have  accepted  it  as  offered. 
Also,  I  have  ventured  to  ask  you  a  question — a  natural 
one  under  the  circumstances.  If  I  am  addicted  to  a 
mannerism  which  suggests  memory  of  a  man  who  was 
hung  for  murder,  I  would  like  to  know  what  it  is,  so  I 
may  avoid  it  in  the  future." 

The  Senator  shrugged.     Then  he  smiled. 

"Do  you  recall,"  he  asked,  "that  you  gave  me  the 
impression  that  you  had  lost  something,  or  that  you 
were  impatiently  awaiting  the  coming  of  another  per- 
son? I  had  been  observing  you  from  the  window.  The 
mannerism — if  you  insist  upon  that  word,  although  it 
is  a  much  stronger  one  than  I  would  apply  to  it — was 
in  the  way  you  moved  your  head  and  eyes  as  you 
glanced  along  the  paths,  and  toward  the  house;  it  was 
your  impatience  of  restraint ;  your  repression  of  eager- 
ness ;  your  attitude  of  commingled  expectancy  and  ap- 
prehension. I  was  reminded — without  a  reason  in  the 
world,  of  course — of  the  man  whose  name  I  have  spoken 
— of  his  demeanor  throughout  his  trial.  Pray  forget 
it." 

What  reply  Belknap  might  have  made  may  not  bo 
known,  for  at  that  instant  Bingham  Harvard  came  out 
of  the  house,  sprang  lightly  over  the  rail  of  the  ver- 
anda, and  approached  them  swiftly  along  the  path, 
moving,  as  Belknap  could  not  help  but  notice,  with  that 
feline,  leopardlike  grace  of  alertness  and  power  that 
had  so  frequently  been  described  in  the  newspapers  in 
the  days  of  "Alias  the  Night  Wind." 

Belknap  was  startled  in  spite  of  his  outward  calm. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

BLACK   JULIUS   RIDES 

JUST  why  Belknap  was  startled  by  the  sudden  ap- 
pearance of  Bingham  Harvard  he  could  not  have  told 
himself. 

Possibly  it  was  because  it  interrupted  his  train  of 
thought  engendered  by  the  Senator's  remarks — per- 
haps they  had  stirred  latent  memories  in  the  back  of 
Belknap's  mind.  Possibly  it  was  because  Harvard's 
sudden  appearance  brought  to  mind  Roberta's  sug- 
gestion that  it  might  have  been  the  Night  Wind  him- 
self who  had  attacked  him  under  the  tree  after  he  had 
caught  the  old  letter  which  Katherine  had  unknowingly 
dropped  into  his  grasp  from  her  balcony,  and  after  he 
had  received  the  note  which  Roberta  had  dropped  to 
him — neither  of  which  he  had  had  a  chance  to  examine. 

Whatever  reason  there  might  have  been  for  it,  he 
was  entirely  his  cool  and  smilingly  inscrutable  self  by 
the  time  that  Harvard  joined  them — and  if  he  had  har- 
bored any  real  fear,  it  was  instantly  dispelled  by  Har- 
vard's cheery  greeting. 

"Monday  morning,  and  all's  well,"  Harvard  said 
after  he  greeted  them.  "I  feel  like  a  schoolboy  on  the 
first  day  of  his  summer  vacation :  I  don't  know  what  to 
do  with  myself.  I  see  that  you" — addressing  Belknap 
directly — "are  togged  for  the  saddle.  If  I  had  known 
it  I'd  have  gone  with  you." 

"Mr.  Belknap  is  waiting  for  Katherine,"  the  Sena- 
tor remarked. 

188 


BLACK  JULIUS  RIDES  189 

"Ah?  That's  odd.  She  was  dressed  and  ready  to 
come  down  when  I  left  her  just  now,  but  not  in  her 
riding  togs.  Perhaps  she  forgot " 

Belknap  laughed  pleasantly. 

"Mrs.  Harvard  doesn't  know  that  I'm  waiting  for 
her,"  he  said.  "I  was  only  hoping  that  she  would  let 
me  go  with  her  if  she  was  riding  this  morning.  You 
see,  I  didn't  read  my  watch  correctly  when  I  got  up. 
I  thought  it  was  two  hours  later  than  it  was.  I  think 
that  I'll  go  ahead,  alone,  if  you  don't  mind.  Will  you 
suggest  a  horse  for  me,  Harvard?" 

"Yes — if  you  want  a  real  one — one  that  will  make 
you  pay  more  attention  to  him  than  to  the  scenery. 
Ask  for  Comet." 

When  Belknap  had  gone  the  Senator  linked  his  arm 
in  Sing's,  and  as  they  started  along  one  of  the  paths, 
he  asked,  in  his  deep-toned,  leisurely  manner — a  man- 
ner which  any  one  of  his  old  colleagues  of  the  Senate 
chamber  would  instantly  have  recognized  as  indicating 
extreme  interest,  although  not  a  suggestion  of  it  ap- 
peared : 

"Is  Mr.  Belknap  an  acquaintance  of  long  standing, 
Bingham?  Do  you  know  him  well?" 

"Oh,  he  is  new  to  all  of  us,"  Bing  replied  carelessly, 
"even  to  the  Archers,  who  are  responsible  for  his  pres- 
ence. But,  he  seems  a  likeable  chap,  don't  you  think? 
Then,  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  changed  the  sub- 
ject. "Jove!  but  I'm  glad  that  I  took  the  figurative 
bull  by  the  horns  and  decided  to  give  myself  a  vacation 
this  week — particularly  because  you  and  mother  are 
here  with  us." 

"I  am  glad,  too,"  the  Senator  rejoined  earnestly. 
Then :  "I  quite  took  a  liking  to  your  friend  Saulsbury 
last  night,  Bingham,  although  I  saw  next  to  nothing 
of  him.  He  is  an  old  friend,  isn't  he?" 


190  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Yes,  indeed.  He  is  considerably  older  than  I  am; 
graduated  at  Harvard  two  years  before  I  matricu- 
lated. His  father  and  Mr.  Chester  are  great  cronies. 
I  have  known  him  since  I  can  remember." 

"Fine  chap.  I  like  him,"  the  Senator  remarked  with 
emphasis,  and  they  strolled  on  in  silence  for  a  time. 
Then :  "What  about  his  friend— that  Mr.  Carruthers  ?" 
The  Senator  chuckled,  and  went  on  before  Bing  could 
reply:  "I  reckon  that  when  one  gets  to  know  him  well 
enough  not  to  see  that  scar,  he'd  be  a  fascinating  sort 
of  a  chap,  eh?" 

"Yes,"  Bing  replied.  "I  liked  him  at  once — and  you 
may  be  sure  that  anybody  whom  Mort  Saulsbury 
vouches  for  is  all  white,  clear  through." 

Followed  another  silence  until  they  were  within  sight 
of  the  stables  and  saw  Belknap  riding  down  the  drive- 
way on  Comet,  who  was  dancing  and  cavorting  with 
tripping  feet  and  arched  neck  and  tail.  But  Belknap 
sat  him  like  a  Centaur,  with  perfect  poise  and  loose 
rein,  thoroughly  at  home  in  the  saddle. 

"That  chap  rides  like  a  Kentuckian,"  the  Senator 
remarked. 

"Or  a  cow-puncher,"  Bing  suggested. 

"Both,"  the  Senator  rejoined.  Then  he  stopped  in 
the  path,  thus  forcing  his  son-in-law  to  pause  also, 
and,  in  a  tone  that  was  at  once  serious  and  emphatic, 
and  which  carried  a  little  note  of  pleading  in  it,  he 
said: 

"Bingham,  yesterday  morning  when  we  were  break- 
fasting, your  mother  mentioned  the  name  of  our  son, 
Roderick.  I  gathered  from  the  expression  of  your 
face  at  the  moment  that  you  had  not  known,  till  then, 
that  Katherine  ever  had  a  brother.  Is  that  true?" 

"Why,  yes;  but " 

"Pardon  me,  Bingham.     Perhaps  Kitten  should  have 


BLACK  JULIUS  RIDES  191 

told  you  about  him;  possibly  she  thought  best  not  to 
do  so.  But,  now  that  his  name  has  been  mentioned,  I 
feel  that  it  is  my  duty  to " 

"Please,  Senator — please,  father,  wait  a  moment. 
Forgive  me  for  interrupting  you.  I  know  by  your 
manner  and  your  words  that  it  is  a  subject  that  you 
would  prefer  not  to  discuss.  Will  you,  to  please  me, 
let  it  rest  where  it  is?  If  there  is  anything  that  needs 
to  be  told  to  me,  Katherine  will  tell  it  in  her  own  good 
time,  and  I  prefer  that  it  should  be  left  that  way.  I 
have  never  had  occasion  yet  to  see  unwisdom  in  our 
Katherine's  judgment." 

The  Senator  sighed,  plainly  relieved;  and  as  they 
started  on  again,  remarked: 

"I  think,  Bingham,  after  breakfast,  I'll  try  that 
Erin-hawss  of  yours — that  Irish  hunter." 

"Do,  father.  He's  a  wonder,  really.  You'll  like 
him — only,  he  isn't  gaited  like  one  of  your  Kentucky 
horses.  He  is Hello!  Now  what  do  you  sup- 
pose is  taking  Julius  off  for  a  cross-country  ride  at 
this  time  of  day,  and  all  by  himself?  Some  errand  for 
Katherine,  doubtless." 

He  had  seen  Julius  in  the  act  of  taking  a  fence  be- 
yond the  pasture  behind  the  paddock — saw  him  for  an 
instant  only  before  he  disappeared  from  view,  and 
thought  no  more  about  it. 

Black  Julius  was  not,  however,  on  an  errand  for  his 
mistress,  although  he  was,  most  certainly,  bound  upon 
one  which  he  thoroughly  believed  to  be  definitely  in  her 
interest. 

Julius  did  not  like  Conrad  Belknap — had  not  liked 
him  from  the  moment  of  his  arrival  at  Myquest — had 
taken  one  of  those  instinctive  dislikes  to  the  man 
which  are  characteristic  of  the  loyal  and  faithful  col- 


192          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

ored  folk  of  the  South  whenever  a  person  who  is  inim- 
ical to  those  they  serve  appears. 

He  had  kept  a  furtive  eye  upon  Belknap  from  the 
first.  He  had  seen  and  taken  mental  note  of  as  many 
trivial  incidents  as  had  Betty  Clancy,  or  Tom,  or 
Bing  himself ;  not  the  same  ones,  perhaps,  but  as  many, 
or  more;  and  his  devotion  to  his  mistress  had  made 
him,  even  more  surely  and  more  quickly  than  others, 
determine,  intuitively,  that  the  man  was  a  fly  in  the 
ointment  of  that  house  party,  and  that  Katherine  dis- 
liked him — and  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  feared 
him — or  dreaded  him — or  at  least  would  be  glad  to 
be  rid  of  his  presence  at  Myquest. 

It  had  so  happened  that  Julius  was  talking  with  the 
butler  at  the  moment  when  the  telephone  call  from 
Washington  came  over  the  wire,  and  while  the  butler 
was  gone  to  summon  Belknap,  Julius  had  not  hesitated 
to  plug  the  switchboard  in  such  a  manner  that  by 
making  haste  to  his  own  cottage  he  would  be  enabled 
to  "listen-in"  to  a  part  of  the  conversation  that  was 
to  follow,  at  least. 

If  Julius  had  been  thoroughly  versed  in  contem- 
porary slang  he  would  have  said  that  he  did  it  because 
he  considered  it  an  opportunity  to  "get  a  line  on  Bel- 
knap's  curves." 

Anyhow,  he  made  the  most  of  it,  and  although  he 
did  not  hear  the  beginning  of  the  talk,  he  did  hear  much 
of  it,  and  although  he  did  not  get  the  line  on  the  curves 
that  he  might  have  wished  for,  he  did  discover  that  a 
friend  or  an  associate  of  Belknap's  in  Washington 
was  warning  him  against  the  appearance  at  Myquest 
of  a  man  whom  they  both  had  good  reason  to  fear, 
and  that  Belknap  was  requested  to  meet  a  messenger 
at  a  stated  time  and  place  the  following  morning,  who 
would  impart  such  further  information  on  the  subject 


BLACK  JULIUS  RIDES  193 

as  was  not  wise  to  discuss  by  telephone.  Julius  had 
heard  enough  to  make  him  want  to  hear  more.  Also 
he  believed  that  the  appointed  place  was  such  as  to 
afford  him  every  opportunity  to  do  that  very  thing  if 
only  he  could  get  to  it  before  Belknap  arrived. 

There  are  still  in  existence  in  various  places  on  Long 
Island  the  picturesque  ruins  of  two-century-old  (and 
more)  saw  and  grist-mills,  some  of  them  tide-water 
mills,  some  of  them  otherwise,  which  the  owners  of  the 
estates  upon  which  they  are  situated  have  preserved 
for  their  picturesqueness.  The  telephone-made  rendez- 
vous was  at  one  such,  and  was  on  the  Myquest  estate. 

To  get  to  it  by  following  the  highways  (as  Belknap 
had  been  directed  over  the  wire),  was  a  roundabout 
route  that  covered  three  miles  or  more;  by  the  route 
that  Julius  selected,  over  fences,  through  by-lanes,  and 
across  fields,  the  distance  was  barely  a  mile. 

Thus,  he  did  get  there  first,  so  that  he  had  ample 
time  to  tether  his  mount  where  it  would  not  be  dis- 
covered, and  to  creep  into  the  ancient  edifice  and  con- 
ceal himself  before  either  of  the  parties  to  that  ar- 
ranged interview  arrived. 

He  was  well  hidden,  where  he  could  hear  without  fear 
of  discovery,  when  Belknap,  who  was  the  first  of  the 
two  to  arrive,  appeared. 

After  that  there  was  a  wait  of  fully  half  an  hour 
before  the  other  man  came,  during  which  Belknap 
strode  up  and  down  with  every  evidence  of  exasperated 
impatience. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   MAN    FROM   WASHINGTON 

BLACK  JULIUS,  after  all,  had  his  labor  for  his  pains. 

He  could  hear  every  sentence  that  passed  between 
Belknap  and  the  other  man  at  that  meeting  in  the  old 
tide-water  grist-mill,  but  he  could  not  understand  a 
word  of  any  of  it. 

The  two  talked  in  a  language  that  Black  Julius  did 
not  know,  although  he  rightly  assumed  that  it  was 
Spanish. 

Nevertheless,  he  was  no  wiser  when  he  went  away — 
a  full  half-hour  after  the  two  had  gone — than  when  he 
arrived ;  no  wiser  save  in  so  far  as  his  intuitive  percep- 
tions, and  his  steady  regard  of  their  faces  while  they 
talked,  rendered  him.  But  he  was  more  than  ever 
convinced  of  his  opinion  of  Belknap. 

Nearly  all  of  the  guests  were  assembled  at  the 
breakfast  table  when  Belknap  joined  them.  Asked, 
casually,  where  he  had  been,  he  replied,  addressing  all 
of  them  generally: 

"I  don't  know,  exactly,  only  that  I  found  the  shore, 
and  an  interesting  old  mill  that  must  be  two  or  three 
hundred  years  old  if  it's  a  day." 

"Two  hundred  and  forty-two,"  Tom  Clancy  an- 
nounced solemnly.  "It  was  built  in  1676.  I  wasn't 
present,  but  I've  been  told  about  it." 

"I  ran  into  a  chap  while  I  was  there,  and  we  got  to 
talking,  which  explains  why  I  am  late,"  Belknap  added, 

194 


THE  MAN  FROM  WASHINGTON         195 

and  thus  accounted  logically  for  the  incident  in  case 
he  had  been  seen  in  the  company  of  that  other  man. 

When  they  left  the  table  he  managed  to  place  him- 
self beside  Katherine,  to  whom  he  said,  in  a  sharp 
undertone : 

"I  must  have  a  talk  with  you,  Mrs.  Harvard,  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  where  there  will  be  no  fear  of 
interruption." 

"We  will  walk  down  the "  she  began,  but  he  in- 
terrupted. 

"No,"  he  said  decidedly,  and  in  that  tone  of  com- 
mand which  he  had  assumed  toward  her  of  late  which 
he  seemed  so  greatly  to  enjoy  for  the  sole  reason  that 
he  knew  that  she  so  bitterly  resented  it.  "We  will 
ride,  if  you  please — or  whether  you  please  or  not — 
in  your  roadster;  and  without  a  passenger  in  the 
rumble.  You  will  invite  me,  presently,  to  drive  with 
you  to  some  point  of  your  selection." 

Katherine  turned  to  face  him,  to  resent,  hotly,  his 
assumption  of  giving  orders,  but  already  his  back  was 
toward  her  and  he  was  moving  leisurely  away. 

She  flushed  angrily,  bit  her  lips,  then  smiled,  and 
accepted  the  situation — for  Katherine  had  decided  that 
morning  to  meet  Belknap  on  his  own  ground,  hence- 
forth, and  to  puzzle  him,  even  to  deceive  him,  by  an 
outward  appearance  of  entire  acceptance  of  the  incon- 
ceivable situation. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Belknap,"  she  called  to  him,  and  he  paused 
and  turned.  "It  has  just  occurred  to  me,"  she  went 
on,  "that  since  you  seem  to  be  interested  in  old  mills, 
there  is  another  one  about  twenty  miles  from  here 
that  is  even  more  interesting  than  ours.  If  you  will 
go  to  the  garage,  I'll  join  you  there,  presently,  and 
take  you  to  see  it." 

"Why  can't  we  all  go?"  Betty  Clancy  demanded. 


196          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"You  can,"  Katharine  replied.  "Suppose  we  do! 
We  will  picnic  there ;  it  is  a  beautiful  spot.  I  will  give 
directions  about  the  hampers,  now,  and  the  rest  of  you 
can  trail  along  as  soon  as  you  are  ready.  Mr.  Bel- 
knap  and  I  will  go  on  ahead  in  my  roadster." 

"You  arranged  that  very  deftly,  Lady  Kate — to  be 
accompanied  without  having  company,"  Belknap  re- 
marked as  they  drove  out  past  the  lodge  gates. 

Katherine  shrugged. 

"I  suppose  I  must  endure  it,"  she  said  resignedly, 
and  shrugged  a  second  time. 

"Endure  what?  The  'Lady  Kate'?"  he  asked,  with 
his  wolfish  smile,  which,  however,  she  did  not  see, 
because  her  eyes  were  upon  the  road  ahead  of  them. 

"Your  utterly  contemptible  and  discourteous  as- 
sumption of  familiarity  whenever  we  happen  to  be 
alone  together,"  she  said  coldly.  "Of  course  I  can't 
stop  you,  if  you  insist  upon  keeping  it  up,  but"- 
she  shot  a  glance  at  him — "you  will  find  me  much  more 
tractable  to  your  whims  and  fancies,  Mr.  Belknap,  if 
you  cut  it  out." 

He  laughed  aloud. 

"You  ought  to  be  glad  that  I  do  not  seek  other 
familiarities  than  the  mere  use  of  names,"  he  said 
coolly;  and,  after  a  moment  of  pause,  added:  "when 
I  look  at  you,  Katherine,  I  sometimes  find  myself  won- 
dering why  I  do  not  demand  that  prerogative  also. 
You  are  a  very  beautiful  woman,  my  lady,  with  all 
of  the  witchery " 

"And  you  are  a  despicable  scoundrel!"  she  inter- 
rupted. 

"Granted,"  he  replied,  and  laughed  outright  a  sec- 
ond time.  "I  think  I  like  you  best  when  you  are 
angry — that  is  why  I  tease  you.  Almost,  when  your 


THE  MAN  FROM  WASHINGTON        197 

eyes  flash  and  flame,  and  you  lift  your  pretty  chin  in 
that  defiant  gesture  of  yours — almost,  I  say,  but  not 
quite — I  could  fall  at  your  feet  and  worship  you,  and 
give  up  the  worldly  world  for  love  of  you,  and  promise 
to  be  good  and  proper  for  the  rest  of  my  life  for  your 
caresses,  which  I  know  perfectly  well  you  would  never 
bestow.  Really,  it  is  rather  an  interesting  as  well  as 
a  pleasant  psychological  study,  when  I  am  alone,  and 
thinking  about  you,  to  try  to  discover  why  I  have  not 
capitulated — why  I  know  that  I  will  not  succumb  to 
your  undeniable  charm,  Lady  Kate." 

Katherine  slowed  the  car  and  turned  to  face  him,  but 
the  derision  and  mockery  that  she  saw  in  his  eyes  re- 
assured her. 

"Did  you  force  me  to  take  you  to  ride  in  my  car 
to  tell  me  that?"  she  asked  coolly. 

"No,  dear  lady,  I  did  not."  He  laughed  again.  He 
seemed  to  be  greatly  amused,  and  it  appeared  to  be 
real.  "But,  you  see,  you  tempt  me.  I  rarely  find  an 
opportunity  to  talk,  on  equal  terms,  with  real  ladies — 
thoroughbreds ;  and,  besides,  you  amuse  me.  Come ; 
that  is  a  compliment  with  a  sting  in  it." 

"Why  did  you  demand  this  opportunity  for  an  un- 
interrupted talk?"  she  asked  unmoved. 

"Because  I  have  a  request  to  make." 

"A  request,  did  you  say?" 

"Call  it  what  you  like.  For  the  moment  I  am  a 
monarch  whose  requests  are  commands.  I  hoped  that 
the  softer  word  might  please  you." 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked  him,  pressing  the  acceler- 
ator and  returning  her  attention  to  the  roadway  be- 
fore them. 

"Before  I  state  it,  there  is  a  question — possibly  two 
or  three  of  them." 

"Well?" 


198  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Have  you  any  idea  as  to  the  identity  of  that  chap 
who  came  here  last  evening,  and  who  is  due  to  return 
co-day?" 

"None,  save  that  he  is  Mr.  Daniel  Carruthers,  and 
a  friend  of  Mr.  Saulsbury." 

"Dear  lady,  he  is  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 
He  is  a  certain  Mr.  Bruce  Brainard,  an  operative  in 
the  secret  service  of  the  United  States  government. 
Carruthers  is  not  his  name,  and  for  that  matter, 
Brainard  may  not  be,  either.  Nor  is  he  a  friend,  in 
the  sense  you  mean,  of  Saulsbury's.  He  may  be  an 
acquaintance,  although,  even  so,  he  is  doubtless  a  re- 
cent one.  And,  now — yes,  there  is  another  question. 
Do  you  guess  why  he  comes  to  Myquest?" 

"Not  unless  he  is  after  one  Conrad  Belknap — in 
case  that  happens  to  be  your  name." 

"Splendid!  You're  a  corker,  Lady  Kate.  You 
score  a  bull's  eye  first  shot." 

"How  do  you  know  this — if  it  is  true?"  (Katherine 
was  inclined  to  doubt,  attributing  his  statement  to 
one  of  his  odd  methods  of  annoying  her.  His  reply 
convinced  her.) 

"My  call  to  the  telephone  last  night  was  to  warn 
me  of  his  coming,  although  neither  the  name  nor  the 
description  confirms  it.  When  I  rode  out  to  the  old 
mill  this  morning  I  went  to  meet  a  messenger  who  was 
sent  to  me  with  more  particulars  than  could  be  re- 
hearsed over  the  phone.  Even  the  description  did  not 
tally  with  the  man;  but,  I  have  no  doubts  about  it, 
just  the  same." 

"You  say  that  he  is  after  you?     To  arrest  you?" 

"He  seeks  several  persons,  of  whom  I  happen  to  be 
one.  So  far  as  arresting  me  is  concerned,  he  will  do 
that  in  his  own  good  time — if  he  can — and  at  his  own 


199 

pleasure  and  convenience — if  he  is  permitted  to  have 
his  way  about  it." 

"Why?" 

"Would  it  interest  you  to  know?" 

"I  would  not  have  asked,  otherwise." 

"It  is  too  long  a  tale  for  now,  dear  lady.  Later — 
when  you  have  hidden  me  away  securely,  if  the  neces- 
sity arises — I  will  tell  you." 

"Why  do  you  tell  me  this?  Don't  you  realize 
that " 

"That  it  gives  you  a  power  over  me,  you  would  say, 
to  betray  me  to  him?  Not  at  all.  That  it  offers  an 
opportunity  for  you  to  rid  yourself  of  my  presence? 
Again,  not  at  all,  sweet  Katherine  of  the  immaculate 
heart.  It  does  neither.  You  could  not  betray  me 
because  you  have  nothing  to  betray ;  and  you  cannot  be 
rid  of  me,  because  I  will  not  be  gotten  rid  of — until 
I  have  accomplished  what  I  came  to  Myquest  to  do." 

"You  intend  to  stay  on,  then,  and  defy  him?" 

"I  intend  to  stay  on — yes ;  and  to  defy  him,  also,  up 
to  a  certain  point.  And  this,  Lady  Kate,  brings 
me  to  the  crux  of  this  interview.  I  shall  not  leave 
Myquest  before  it  is  my  pleasure  to  do  so,  no  matter 
what  happens — not  even  if  I  have  to  commit  a  murder 
in  order  to  stay  on.  Oh,  don't  be  shocked,  pray.  I 
wouldn't  do  it  myself ;  I  would  have  it  done  for  me.  I 
said  just  now  that  I  would  defy  him  up  to  a  certain 
point.  I  will.  But,  when  that  point  is  reached,  if  it 
is  reached" — he  bent  forward  and  touched  her  shoulder 
with  his  fingers  while  he  went  on  with  slow  emphasis — 
"you  must  have  made  ready  for  me,  at  Myquest,  a 
place  of  concealment  where  that  man  cannot  find  me, 
but  where  I  may,  nevertheless,  see  you  daily.  There 
is  such  a  place,  doubtless,  and  if  there  is  not  one  now, 
you  must  make  one." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   RETURN  OF   CARRUTHERS 

THEY  drove  on  in  silence  for  a  time. 

Katherine  was  thoughtful,  and  so  was  Belknap. 
Presently,  when  she  stole  a  covert  glance  at  him,  she 
saw  that  he  was  staring  at  the  roadway  ahead,  and 
that  his  somewhat  thin  lips  were  set  in  a  straight  line. 
Katherine  was  psychologist  enough  to  know  that  he 
was  thinking  upon  the  subject  that  he  had  just  men- 
tioned to  her — the  true  identity  of  Carruthers,  and 
the  reason  for  his  appearance  at  Myquest. 

She  could  read,  also,  that  he  was  counting  the  risks 
he  would  take  in  remaining  and  daring — for  a  time  at 
least — to  brave  the  presence  of  a  secret  service  opera- 
tive; that  he  was  figuring  up  the  chances  he  would 
take;  his  chances  of  success  in  whatever  it  could  be 
that  he  had  determined  to  do,  and  getting  away  with 
it.  And  she  realized,  likewise,  that  there  was  not  a 
shade  of  fear  or  hesitancy  in  his  expression. 

He  would  not  be  foiled  in  his  purpose,  or  permit 
himself  to  deviate  from  the  direct  course  to  its  accom- 
plishment— and  while  she  hated  and  despised  the  man, 
she  could  not  deny  to  him  a  modicum  of  admiration 
for  his  courage  and  daring,  his  cool  and  calculating 
cock-sureness,  and  his  apparently  utter  indifference 
to  consequences  for  his  acts. 

Almost  unconsciously — certainly  before  she  thought 

200 


THE  RETURN  OF  CARRUTHERS   201 

how  it  would  sound — she  gave  voice  to  the  thought 
that  was  uppermost  in  her  mind  at  the  moment. 

"What  a  pity  it  is  that  you  are  not  a  good  man," 
she  said,  speaking  her  thought. 

"Why  do  you  say  that?"  he  demanded,  turning  his 
head  quickly  toward  her. 

"Because  you  have  it  in  you  to  accomplish  great 
things  if  only  your  aim  was  right,  and  your  target 
happened  to  be  good  instead  of  evil.'* 

"Yes,"  he  replied  in  the  same  tone  that  she  had 
used,  "you  are  right,  Mrs.  Harvard.  I  have  it  in  me 
— I  have  always  had  it  in  me." 

He  was  looking  straight  at  her,  but  seemingly 
through  and  beyond  her  into  the  distances  of  the  past, 
and  for  the  moment  during  that  retrospect  his  face 
was  transformed.  She  could  scarcely  realize  that  he 
was  Conrad  Belknap,  the  cheat,  the  blackmailer,  the 
self-confessed  crook.  He  went  on: 

"I  was  born  under  a  cloud.  My  life  was  begotten  in 
felony.  I  was  bathed  in  the  blood  of  an  awful  crime 
when  I  was  less  than  a  year  old.  My  boyhood  and 
youth  were  years  of  close  association  with  criminals. 
My  young  manhood  was  still  worse."  He  lifted  his 
head  and  laughed  aloud,  harshly,  and  the  Belknap 
that  she  knew,  and  hated,  and  despised  was  predomi- 
nant again.  "So,"  he  went  on,  "I  grew  up  to  be  just  a 
human  tiger,  of  the  man-eating  variety.  I  dominated 
all  of  my  associates  because  the  blood  of  many  gentle 
generations  on  both  sides  flowed  in  my  veins — because 
I  had  inherited  brains,  and  knew  how  to  use  them — 
because  I  was  always  cold,  implacable,  relentless,  and 
because  I  have  never  known  physical  fear."  He 
laughed  again,  softly,  and  added: 

"So,  you  see,  what  you  said  was  true:  if  my  aim 


202  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

happened  to  be  right,  and  my  target  happened  to  be 
good,  there  is  nothing  that  I  could  not  accomplish." 

"Is  it  too  late  to  try,  even  now?"  Katherine  asked 
softly. 

"Too  late?  Dear  lady,  it  was  too  late  for  that 
before  I  w&s  born.  I  have  said  that  I  am  a  sort  of 
human  tiger.  Would  you  bring  a  tiger  from  the 
jungle,  half  starve  it  until  it  attained  maturity,  and 
then  turn  it  loose  among  a  lot  of  children  and  expect 
it  to  fawn  upon  them  and  lick  their  hands?  Too  late? 
It  was  always  too  late.  I  will  confess  one  thing  to 
you,  Katherine.  This:  I  have  never,  by  my  own 
choice,  committed  but  one  honorable  act  since  I  have 
been  a  man.  I  mean  by  that  that  never  but  once  have 
I  chosen  the  honorable  course  in  preference  to  the  dis- 
honorable one — and  I  have  regretted  it  ten  million 
times.  It  was  my  one  and  only  attempt  to  aim  at 
good,  as  you  expressed  it,  and  I  missed,  and  I  got  what 
was  coming  to  me. 

"That's  all,  sweet  lady.  We  will  change  the  sub- 
ject. We'll  get  down  to  cases  again.  I  have  said 
that  a  moment  is  likely  to  arise  within  the  next  few 
days,  or  hours,  when  I  will  ask  you  to  put  me  in 
hiding  at  Myquest,  or  so  near  to  it  that  I  can  reach 
out  and  touch  it.  When  I  make  that  demand  upon 
you,  it  must  be  met.  It  must  be.  Is  there  such  a 
place?  And  if  there  is  not,  will  you  see  that  one  is 
prepared  so  that  it  will  be  ready  when  I  have  need 
of  it?" 

Katherine  had  been  thinking  swiftly,  too,  during 
that  silence,  just  before  these  last  remarks,  and  she  had 
determined  upon  a  course  which,  an  hour  earlier,  she 
would  not  have  dreamed  of  considering.  She  replied 
instantly : 

"Yes.     There  is  such  a  place." 


THE  RETURN  OF  CARRUTHERS   203 

"Very  good.     And  you  will  have  it  ready  for  me." 

"It  is  ready  now — at  any  moment  you  need  it." 

"Where  I  will  be  close  to  Myquest,  and  can  have  fre- 
quent interviews  with  you — in  case  it  is  necessary?" 

"Yes — to  both  questions.     Now,  I  will  ask  you  one." 

"As  many  as  you  like." 

"Where  do  you  find  the  courage  to  ask  this  of  me 
when  you  must  know  that  having  hidden  you  away, 
I  could  so  easily  direct  your  enemies  where  to  find  you? 
When  you  must  know  that  my  every  impulse  under 
such  circumstances  will  be  to  betray  you,  and  so  to  be 
rid  of  you  ?  Surely  you  must  know  that  I  could,  under 
such  conditions,  anticipate  your  betrayal  of  my  secret, 
and  render  your  knowledge  of  it  impotent." 

"Lady  Kate,"  he  said  slowly,  "my  favorite  pastime 
is  the  study  of  character.  I  know  that  it  is  as  impos- 
sible for  you  to  do  wrong  as  it  is  for  me  to  do  right. 
You  would  no  more  betray  me  in  that  manner  than 
you  would  betray  your  husband  in  another  one.  Like- 
wise, you  are  what  men  call  a  good  sport." 

"Then  why  aren't  you  one?" 

"I  will  be,  Lady  Kate." 

"You  mean — what?" 

"I  mean  that  while  I  shall  compel  you  to  assist  me 
in  the  fulfillment  of  my  plans  down  here,  I  will  not, 
hereafter,  needlessly  offend  you — other  than  by  the 
use  of  your  given  names." 

"Thank  you — for  that  much.  Will  you  tell  me  why 
you  came  to  Myquest?  What  your  plans  are?  Just 
what  it  is  that  you  seek?  And  let  us  get  it  over  and 
have  done  with  it — if  it  must  be  done?"  she  asked 
with  a  touch  of  wistfulness  in  her  tone. 

"Not  now.  Another  time.  When  you  have  hidden 
me  away — if  that  has  to  be  done." 

"Is  it  money  that  you  want,  Mr.  Bel — " 


204  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"I  have  answered  that  question  before.  No;  it  is 
not.  Don't  question  me  now." 

They  arrived  at  the  mill  shortly  thereafter,  and  had 
been  there  only  a  little  time  when  the  remainder  of  the 
house  party  joined  them — and  in  the  last  car,  which 
Bing  drove  himself,  came  also  Mr.  Daniel  Carruthers. 

Katherine  stepped  forward  at  once  to  welcome  him. 

Notwithstanding  the  hideous  scar  on  his  face,  there 
was  something  about  the  man  that  fascinated  her  at- 
tention. When  he  grasped  her  hand  in  greeting,  the 
touch  of  it  thrilled  her  strangely.  She  studied  the 
expression  of  his  eyes  during  that  brief  interval,  and 
wondered  vaguely  what  it  was  that  she  saw  there  that 
seemed  to  convey  unintelligible  words  and  phrases  that 
did  not  enter  into  his  speech,  and  when  she  turned 
away,  it  was  with  the  feeling  that  she  had  known  him 
and  liked  him  in  the  past,  although  she  knew  that  she 
had  not;  but,  as  if  he  were  somehow  mixed  with  an 
incomplete  and  forgotten  dream. 

In  turning  away  she  encountered  Belknap,  who 
drew  her  aside  and  away  from  the  others  with  a  pre- 
text. 

"I  was  right,"  he  told  her  in  a  low  tone.  "It's 
Brainard,  of  the  secret  service.  I  know,  because  of 
one  sure  point  that  the  messenger  gave  me.  I  shall 
seek  him,  now,  and  talk  with  him.  Keep  an  eye  on 
me,  Lady  Kate,  and  if  this  wild  aster" — he  plucked 
one  ana  fastened  it  in  the  lapel  of  his  coat — "should 
disappear,  it  will  mean  that  you  must  hide  me  away 
at  once,  upon  our  return  to  Myquest." 

Belknap  sought,  rather  than  avoided,  the  society  of 
the  man  with  the  scar — and  the  feathery,  purple-hued 
aster  did  not  disappear  from  the  button-hole  in  the 
lapel  of  his  coat. 

It    was    still    there   when    the    party    returned    to 


THE  RETURN  OF  CARRUTHERS   205 

Myquest.  Belknap  had  found  opportunity  to  say  to 
Katherine  just  before  the  return  start  was  made,  that 
inasmuch  as  the  aster  was  destined  to  fade,  he  would 
replace  it  with  some  other  flower  when  necessary,  and 
that  whenever  she  chanced  to  discover  him  without 
the  decoration  of  a  boutonniere,  that  fact  would  be 
the  signal  for  immediate  action. 

Harvard  rode  back  with  Katherine.  Belknap  went 
in  the  car  with  Tom  and  Betty  Clancy,  Mrs.  Saulsbury, 
Diana  Loring,  and  Carruthers. 

"Truly,"  Katherine  thought  as  she  saw  them  depart, 
"Conrad  Belknap  is  not  of  the  breed  that  runs  away." 
Nor  did  she  believe  that  his  insistence  that  she  should 
hide  him  when  he  gave  the  signal,  was  because  of  fear 
of  the  secret  service  officer.  Rather,  she  was  of  the 
opinion  that  he  had  selected  that  course  because  he 
believed  that  it  would  serve  his  own  interests  better  in 
carrying  out  his  secret  plans. 

Over  and  over  again  she  puzzled  her  brains  in  the 
effort  to  determine  the  ultimate  object  of  Belknap' s 
visit  to  Myquest;  but  search  as  she  might,  she  found 
herself  at  fault  with  every  turn  of  thought. 

He  had  not  come  with  intention  to  rob  the  house 
of  its  plate,  or  her  guests  of  their  jewels ;  of  that  much 
she  felt  assured.  His  winnings  at  the  card  table, 
although  she  knew  they  must  be  considerable,  she  re- 
garded as  a  by-product,  merely,  of  his  real  purpose. 
To  win  at  cards  by  cheating  others  was  a  character- 
istic of  the  man  which  he  as  thoroughly  enjoyed  as  a 
marksman  finds  delight  in  making  bull's-eyes. 

Katherine  had  intended  that  day,  during  their  ride 
together,  to  ask  him  for  particulars  about  what  he 
knew  concerning  her  brother  Roderick,  but  when  he 
made  the  strange  request  that  she  should  hide  him 
away,  if  need  be,  she  determined  on  the  spot  to  defer 


206  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

such  questionings  till  later — for  the  Lady  of  the  Night 
Wind  had  then,  very  quickly,  formed  a  little  plan  of 
her  own  concerning  that  hiding  stunt;  a  plan  which 
would  prove  to  be  considerable  of  a  surprise  to  Mr. 
Belknap;  a  plan  that — she  smiled  when  she  considered 
it  calmly,  and  thought  of  what  the  outcome  of  it 
might  be. 

"Here  is  a  letter  of  yours  that  I  found  under  your 
balcony,"  Bingham  said  to  her  while  they  were  on 
their  way  back,  giving  it  into  her  hand  "It  is  the  one 
your  mother  sent,  announcing  the  time  of  her  arrival." 

"Oh,  yes,"  Katherine  replied  without  surprise.  "I 
was  using  it  as  a  bookmark — Saturday,  I  think.  It 
must  have  dropped  out ;  thank  you." 

Bing  regarded  her  partly  averted  face  in  silence, 
vaguely  disturbed. 

He  had  hoped  that  with  the  production  and  return 
of  the  letter  that  had  dropped  from  her  balcony  when 
Belknap  had  so  startled  her  Saturday  night,  she  would 
have  something  to  say,  something  to  tell  him,  about 
the  circumstance,  but  she  said  nothing. 

He  had  read  the  incident  correctly,  although  he  did 
not  know  that.  He  had  assumed  that  Belknap  had 
come  upon  her  unexpectedly,  and  startled  her,  when  he 
had  found  that  what  he  had  first  supposed  to  be  some 
sort  of  a  written  message  had  turned  out  to  be  a  two- 
weeks-old  letter  from  her  mother. 

The  other  paper  that  he  had  taken  from  Belknap 
on  that  occasion  had  been  no  more  enlightening. 

True  he  had  seen  it  dropped  purposely  into  Bel- 
knap's  hand,  and  he  now  knew  that  the  senorita  had 
dropped  it,  but  the  contents  of  it  told  him  nothing 
whatever.  Indeed,  it  had  appeared  to  be  merely  care- 
lessly scribbled  balderdash — unless,  indeed,  it  might  be 
some  sort  of  cipher. 


THE  RETURN  OF  CARRUTHERS   207 

Bing  had  puzzled  over  it  so  much  since  it  so 
strangely  came  into  his  possession,  that  he  had  learned 
it  by  heart,  and  while  he  covertly  watched  his  wife,  he 
repeated  it  in  thought.  It  was: 

When  every  arm  resists  entirely,  we  are  then  concerned  how 
effort,  done  before  endeavor,  will  award  rebellion's  end. 

Such  had  been  the  senorita's  message  to  Belknap 
that  she  had  deliberately — so  it  had  seemed — dropped 
into  his  outstretched  hand  from  her  balcony,  Saturday 
midnight.  It  had  the  appearance  of  a  meaningless 
quotation,  and  the  more  Bing  thought  it  over,  the  more 
inclined  he  became  to  consider  it  in  much  the  same  light 
as  the  old  letter  that  had  dropped  from  Katherine's 
balcony — an  accident. 

Yet,  deep  down  inside  of  him  he  knew  that  that  was 
not  so,  and  the  thing  that  puzzled  him  most  while  he 
rode  on  in  silence  beside  Katherine,  was  the  fact  that 
she  did  not  tell  him  about  the  unlooked-for  appearance 
of  Belknap  beneath  her  window  that  night. 

'How  does  Mr.  Carruthers  impress  you,  Katheiine?" 
he  asked  her  presently. 

"He  impresses  me  very  strongly,"  she  replied,  "but 
just  what  that  impression  is  I  don't  know.  I  am  very 
much  inclined  to  like  him,  if  that  is  what  you  mean, 
Bingham." 

"Yes ;  that  is  what  I  mean,"  he  returned. 

"Is  he  a  business  man,  or  does  he  belong  to  one  of 
the  professions?"  she  asked,  with  a  quick  glance 
toward  her  husband  out  of  the  corners  of  her  eyes, 
for  she  had  in  mind  the  things  that  Belknap  had  said 
about  him. 

"I  don't  think  that  he  is  in  business,"  Harvard  re- 
plied evasively,  "so  we  may  assume  that  he  belongs 
to  one  of  the  professions." 


208  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Abruptly  Katherine  changed  the  subject. 

"Why  didn't  you  bring  Senorita  Cervantez  with  you 
to-day?"  she  asked.  "I  was  surprised  not  to  sfee  her  at 
our  picnic.  Did  you  forget  to  ask  her?" 

"No.  I  asked  her.  She  whispered  into  my  ear,  in 
that  breathless  way  of  hers,  that  she  hoped  I  would 
make  her  excuses  to  you,  and  I  clean  forgot  to  do  it." 

"Was  she  present  when  Mr.  Carruthers  arrived? 
Did  she  meet  him?" 

"She  was  on  the  veranda  when  he  drove  in  with 
Miriam,  but  she  went  inside  while  they  were  getting  out 
of  the  car." 

Therein,  Katherine  thought,  was  partial  confirma- 
tion of  what  Belknap  had  told  her;  for  Katherine  re- 
membered that  Roberta  had  gone  inside  to  play  dream- 
ily upon  the  piano  the  preceding  evening  when  Car- 
ruthers came  to  call,  with  Mr.  Saulsbury — and  again 
she  seemed  to  have  purposely  avoided  meeting  him. 

Did  Roberta  know — as  Belknap  confidently  believed 
that  he  knew — that  Carruthers  was  in  reality  a  certain 
Bruce  Brainard,  an  operative  of  the  secret  service? 
She  decided  then  and  there  that  she  would  lose  no 
time  in  bringing  the  two  face  to  face,  and  that  she 
would  watch  them  closely  when  she  did  so. 

As  matters  stood,  the  key  to  her  entire  problem  was 
concealed  within  the  real  object  of  Belknap's  presence 
at  Myquest.  If  only  she  could  discover  what  that  was ! 

Bing  drove  home  rather  slowly.  They  had  been  the 
last  to  leave  the  old  mill  where  they  had  picnicked. 
They  were  nearly  half  an  hour  behind  the  others  in 
returning.  When  Katherine  ascended  the  steps  to 
the  veranda,  almost  the  first  thing  that  she  noticed 
was  the  fact  that  Roberta  was  seated  on  a  chair  at 
one  corner  of  it  while  Carruthers  was  leaning  against 
the  rail  directly  in  front  of  her.  Evidently  he  had 


THE  RETURN  OF  CARRUTHERS   209 

just  made  some  remark,  for  Roberta  was  writing  on 
her  ivory  tablets  at  the  moment,  and  she  passed  them 
to  her  companion  even  while  Katherine  approached. 

Belknap  came  out  through  one  of  the  windows  at 
that  moment,  and  the  fact  of  his  appearance  at  just 
that  instant  convinced  Katherine  that  he  had  been 
watching  the  two  from  inside  of  the  room. 

"Will  you  be  my  partner  at  bridge,  senorita?"  he 
asked  at  once,  fulfilling,  as  Katherine  knew,  his  threat 
to  Roberta  made  Saturday  night.  But  Roberta  had 
evidently  expected  it,  and  was  equal  to  it.  She  wrote 
rapidly  on  one  of  the  tablets  and  passed  it  to  Bel- 
knap: 

"Thank  you,"  she  wrote,  "but  I  do  not  play  bridge. 
I  have  never  learned  the  game." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE    SIGNAL 

THE  cool  effrontery  of  Conrad  Belknap  and  his  utter 
indifference  to  consequences  were  never  better  exempli- 
fied than  by  a  (to  Katherine)  startling  episode  that 
occurred  in  the  evening  of  that  day. 

The  weather  was  unusually  warm,  even  for  late  June. 
Nobody  cared  to  remain  indoors,  even  for  the  at- 
tractions of  bridge  or  music. 

Roberta  improvised  some  dreamy  airs  on  the  piano 
for  a  time,  but  presently  came  out  through  one  of  the 
windows  where  Katherine  was  seated  with  Carruthers 
and  Belknap. 

"Come  with  me  and  I  will  show  it  to  you,"  she  heard 
Katherine  say  to  Carruthers ;  and  as  they  got  upon 
their  feet  and  started  slowly  away,  Belknap  remarked 
coolly : 

"Ah;  here  is  Sefiorita  Cervantez.  We  will  go  with 
you,  if  the  senorita  will  do  me  that  much  honor."  And 
he  added,  by  way  of  explanation:  "They  are  going 
down  to  the  lake.  Will  you  go?" 

Roberta  knew  that  the  polite  question  was  intended 
for  a  command,  but  she  would  not  have  hesitated  to 
deny  him  as  she  had  done  in  the  matter  of  the  game 
of  bridge,  before  dinner,  if  it  had  not  been  her  whim 
at  the  moment  to  go. 

So  the  four  walked  down  the  path  toward  the  lake 
together,  with  Katherine  and  Carruthers  in  the  lead, 

210 


THE  SIGNAL  211 

but  not  far  enough  ahead  to  render  their  conversation 
unintelligible  to  the  pair  who  followed. 

Roberta,  whose  understanding  of  Belknap's  moods 
and  methods  was  the  consequence  of  long  and  varied 
experiences,  knew  perfectly  well  that  he  had  a  definite 
purpose  in  following  the  others,  and  she  had  her  own 
reasons  for  desiring  to  be  present  to  witness  whatever 
might  occur. 

She  was  glad  that  Belknap  kept  so  close  to  the  lead- 
ers that  there  was  no  opportunity  for  confidences — 
as  she  also  knew,  because  of  that  same  fact,  that  he 
was  meditating  some  sort  of  preconceived  coup  at  the 
first  opportunity  that  offered;  and  that  he  was  act- 
ually making  that  opportunity. 

They  came  to  the  lake  at  the  boat-house  and  bath- 
ing pavilion,  and  went  out  upon  the  wide  and  spacious 
platform  in  front  of  the  former,  which  extended  above 
the  water. 

"It  is  much  cooler  here,"  Carruthers  remarked  as 
he  brought  some  chairs  forward  for  the  ladies,  and 
proceeded  to  light  a  cigar.  Then  his  eyes  rested  for 
a  long  moment  upon  the  Swiss  chalet  perched  at  the 
top  of  the  bluff  opposite,  where  the  glory  of  the  moon 
but  added  to  its  picturesqueness. 

"What  is  that  building  over  there?"  he  asked  Kath- 
erine. 

"Oh;  the  chalet?"  she  replied  indifferently.  "Every- 
body who  comes  here  asks  that  question,  Mr.  Car- 
ruthers. It  is  really,  I  suppose,  a  sort  of  storehouse 
for  the  accommodation  of  articles  that  I  don't  care  to 
keep  in  the  house.  It  is  closed  and  shuttered,  and 
tightly  sealed — unused,  practically.  Mr.  Harvard  and 
I  have  some  plans  regarding  it,  but,  you  know  that 
procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time." 

"By  the  way,  Carruthers,"  Belknap  spoke  up  before 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

a  reply  could  be  made,  "I  have  been  puzzling  my  head 
about  you  ever  since  you  came  here  yesterday,  to  call." 

"Yes?  Have  you,  indeed?"  the  man  with  the  scar 
replied,  uninterestedly ;  but  Roberta  bent  slightly  for- 
ward in  her  chair,  convinced  that  the  moment  had  ar- 
rived when  Belknap  would  make  the  play  that  had 
brought  him  out  there  with  the  others. 

Katherine,  because  Belknap's  remark,  and  the  man- 
ner of  it,  had  startled  her,  half  turned  toward  them 
to  listen;  and  Belknap — well,  whatever  it  was  that  he 
intended  to  say,  he  knew  himself  to  be  master  of  the 
situation,  for  he  knew  what  the  other  man  could  not 
know  (as  he  figured  it) — that  both  of  the  women  pres- 
ent were  more  or  less  in  his  confidence;  at  least  he 
was  not  afraid  of  anything  that  might  be  said  in  the 
presence  of  either  of  them. 

"I  have,"  he  rejoined,  without  hesitation.  "I 
thought,  last  evening  when  you  came,  and  I  am  quite 
certain,  now,  that  we  have  met  before;  only 

"I  have  no  recollection  of  such  a  meeting,  Mr.  Bel- 
knap." 

"Possibly  not.  It  happened  some  years  ago.  You 
have  met  with  a  serious  accident  since  then.  You  did 
not  wear  that  scar  at  the  time" — he  hesitated  while 
Katherine  caught  her  breath  and  bit  her  lip  in  amaze- 
ment at  his  insolence,  and  while  Roberta  sat  bolt  up- 
right on  her  chair  as  if  petrified ;  and  Belknap  deliber- 
ately plucked  the  boutonniere  from  his  coat  and  tossed 
it  into  the  lake — "and,"  he  went  on,  "your  name  was 
not  Carruthers,  then.  It  was  Brainard — Bruce  Brain- 
ard.  You  were,  so  I  was  informed,  an  operative  in  the 
secret  service." 

It  was  all  said  very  deliberately,  concisely,  and  in  a 
tone  of  finality  that  left  no  room  for  argument  or  de- 
niaL 


THE  SIGNAL  213 

A  pistol  shot  exploded  immediately  behind  them 
could  not  have  been  more  astounding,  although  it  might 
have  produced  a  different  effect. 

As  it  was,  all  three  of  his  listeners  sat  very  still  and 
silent.  Belknap  alone  of  the  group  was  on  his  feet. 

There  was  a  space  of  perhaps  a  full  second,  but 
which  seemed,  to  at  least  two  of  the  four,  to  be  many 
seconds,  during  which  nobody  spoke;  then,  as  de- 
liberately as  Belknap  had  spoken,  Carruthers  replied: 

"Your  memory  is  remarkable,  but — misleading,  Mr. 
Belknap.  It  is  remarkable  because  I  happen  to  be 
acquainted  with  the  Mr.  Brainard  to  whom  you  refer, 
who  is,  I  believe,  a  member  of  the  secret  service,  and 
who,  quite  unaccountably,  resembles  me,  save  for  the 
facial  disfigurement  to  which  you  have  so  delicately  re- 
ferred. Shall  we  stroll  on,  Mrs.  Harvard,  along  the 
lake  shore?"  he  added,  before  Belknap  could  reply. 

Katherine  left  her  chair  instantly,  glad  to  be  re- 
lieved of  the  strain. 

Belknap,  apparently,  had  no  desire  to  pursue  the 
subject.  He  knew  that  Katherine  had  seen  him  pluck 
the  boutonniere  from  his  coat,  and  that  she  had  un- 
derstood the  signal.  Also,  he  had  accomplished  his 
purpose,  which  had  been  to  inform  Carruthers  that  he 
was  "on  to"  him — and  to  defy  him. 

It  was  plainly  up  to  Roberta  to  follow  Carruthers 
and  Katherine,  if  she  so  desired,  but  she  kept  her  seat 
and  let  them  go — and  watched  them  in  silence  until 
they  were  out  of  hearing.  Then,  in  a  tone  so  low  as 
to  be  barely  audible,  she  said  to  Belknap: 

"Why  did  you  do  that,  C.  B.?" 

He  shrugged,  and  indulged  in  his  sardonic  smile. 

"Because  it  pleased  me.  I  was  warned  of  his  com- 
ing by  telephone  last  night.  I  got  the  particulars 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

early  this  morning.  The  man  is  Brainard,  of  the  secret 
service.  There  is  no  doubt  about  it." 

"And  he  is  here" — she  hesitated,  and  Belknap  noticed 
for  the  first  time  that  she  was  pale  and  tense — "why 
is  he  here,  if  you  are  right  about  him?" 

Belknap  smiled  even  more  pronouncedly  as  he  re- 
plied: 

"There  is  only  one  reason  why  any  of  his  kind  would 
be  after  me.  You  know  that.  It  is  old,  to  be  sure ;  but, 
you  know  that  legend,  don't  you,  that  Uncle  Sam  never 
lets  go?  A  thousand  years  are  as  a  day,  and  all  of 
that  rot.  He  hasn't  got  the  gall  to  try  to  put  irons 
on  me,  even  if  he  is  sure  that  I  am  I — which  I  doubt ; 
and  if  he  did  it  he  could  not  prove  his  case,  Berta. 
Bah!"  he  snapped  his  fingers,  "I  don't  fear  him  that 
much." 

Then  he  turned  sharply  upon  her. 

"What  did  you  guess  at,  about  him?"  he  demanded. 

"Nothing,"  she  replied,  calmly  returning  his  gaze. 

"I  was  watching  you  this  afternoon  when  you  talked 
together  on  the  veranda.  I  could  not  hear  what  he 
said,  and  of  course  I  couldn't  read  your  written  re- 
plies; but,  your  manner  and  his  were  not  as  between 
total  strangers.  I  saw  something  that  smelt  of  an 
understanding  between  you,  I  thought.  Are  you  try- 
ing in  another  way  to  double-cross  me?  Did  you  sup- 
ply the  information  that  brought  him  here?  Some- 
body did,  and  if  it  was  you * 

He  did  not  finish,  but  he  managed  to  convey  a  world 
of  menace  in  what  he  left  unsaid. 

Roberta  did  not  reply,  for  at  that  moment  several 
more  of  the  guests  joined  them  on  the  platform. 

Belknap  excused  himself  and  returned  to  the  house 
as  soon  as  the  other  guests  came  upon  the  scene. 

Miss  Loring  and  Demming  were  seated  together  on 


THE  SIGNAL  215 

the  veranda,  and  saw  him  enter  the  house.  Black 
Julius,  passing  through  the  main  hall,  saw  him  ascend 
the  stairs  as  if  he  were  going  to  his  own  room,  and  a 
maid  on  the  third  floor  saw  him  enter  it.  Nobody,  on 
the  following  day,  remembered  having  seen  him  after 
that ;  at  least,  nobody  admitted  it,  if  he  was  seen. 

Katherine  saw  and  understood  the  signal  of  the 
boutonniere  when  he  plucked  it  from  his  coat  and  threw 
it  into  the  lake  at  the  boat-house,  and  so,  instead  of 
wandering  along  the  shore  with  Carruthers — although 
for  reasons  of  her  own  she  did  wish  very  much  to  do  so 
— she  guided  him  away  from  it,  and,  by  a  roundabout 
way,  led  him  back  to  the  house,  where  she  left  him 
on  the  veranda  and  went  inside. 

She  wrote  a  single  line  upon  a  sheet  of  paper — "The 
rustic  seat  under  the  box-elder,  after  midnight,"  was 
what  she  wrote — folded  it,  carried  it  to  the  next  floor, 
and  slipped  it  beneath  Belknap's  door  unseen.  After 
that  she  went  outside  and  joined  the  others  on  the 
veranda. 

"The  others"  were  scattered  along  the  length  of  it, 
save  for  the  senorita,  who  was  inside  at  the  piano, 
playing  for  them ;  and  presently,  while  she  was  render- 
ing Chopin's  "Polonaise  Militaire,"  Carruthers  tossed 
aside  his  cigar  and  entered  at  the  window  beyond  which 
the  piano  stood. 

At  first  he  began  idly  to  turn  over  some  sheets  of 
music  on  the  top  of  the  piano,  as  if  seeking  a  choice 
selection,  and  soon,  having  found  it,  apparently,  he 
carried  it  around  the  end  of  the  piano  to  her. 

"Will  you  play  this  one  for  me,  please?"  he  asked, 
fixing  it  against  the  rack ;  and  while  he  bent  forward  to 
adjust  it,  Roberta  murmured: 

"He  knows  you.     What  will  you  do?" 

"Nothing  at  present.     I'll  wait — and  watch." 


216          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

She  began  to  play,  but  Carruthers,  in  withdrawing 
his  hand,  dislodged  a  sheet  of  the  music  so  that  it  fell 
to  the  floor.  When  he  stooped  to  regain  it,  she  mur- 
mured swiftly: 

"I  must  talk  with  you.     How  can  you  manage  it?" 

"Go  where  you  met  me  Saturday  night,"  he  replied 
softly.  "The  bench  under  the  tree  by  the  lake." 

"What  time?"  she  asked,  while  he  readjusted  the 
music  on  the  rack. 

"After  midnight,  Bobbie.  Who  arrives  first  will 
wait." 

She  nodded  as  if  to  assure  him  that  the  music  was 
well  placed  at  last,  and  he  passed  again  around  the  end 
of  the  piano  and  dropped  upon  a  chair  to  listen  to  her 
playing. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  coming  of  Carruthers  to 
Myquest,  the  first  time,  to  call,  and  then  to  remain  as 
a  guest,  was  not  unexpected  by  at  least  one  of  its 
guests — that  the  stranger  with  the  scar  was  the  same 
man  whom  Roberta  had  gone  outside  to  meet  in  the  wee 
small  hours  of  Sunday  morning — that  he  was  the  same 
man  whom  Belknap  had  thought  for  a  time  was  locked 
in  Roberta's  bathroom — and  that  he  was  the  identical 
individual  whose  face  Katherine  had  observed  in  the 
glow  of  a  lighted  match  beneath  the  box-elder  when  she 
fled  to  the  Nest,  which  she  had  hoped  she  would  recog- 
nize, but  did  not ;  and,  wholly  as  strange  and  inexplic- 
able as  any  part  of  the  preceding,  she  had  not  remem- 
bered it  at  all  when  that  same  person  appeared  at  My- 
quest Sunday  evening  with  Morton  Saulsbury.  And 
thus  it  appears,  also,  that  there  existed  between  him 
and  Roberta  a  degree  of  intimacy  which  nobody  but 
themselves  knew  about. 

The  man  whom  Katherine  saw  under  the  tree  had 
worn  no  scar.  She  would  have  seen  it  in  the  glow  of 


THE  SIGNAL  217 

the  lighted  match  had  there  been  one.  He  had  been 
bearded  and  shock-headed — but  wigs  and  false  beards 
are  not  readily  discernible  at  night,  under  trees ;  and 
he  had  been  enveloped  in  a  raincoat  that  reached  nearly 
to  his  heels. 

No;  Katherine  had  not  suspected  that  Daniel  Car- 
ruthers,  so  called,  was  the  same  man  who  had  talked 
with  Roberta  under  the  tree  that  night.  Such  an  idea 
had  not  occurred  to  her  at  all. 

But  we  know  something  more  which  none  of  them 
guessed  at. 

Two  appointments  had  been  made,  to  take  place  at 
the  same  spot,  at  approximately  the  same  time,  for 
the  night  that  had  just  begun;  Carruthers  and  Ro- 
berta were  to  meet  there  for  a  private  conference  which 
she  had  insisted  upon  making;  and  Katherine  was  to 
meet  Belknap  there  to  conduct  him  to  the  hiding  place 
which  he  had  insisted  that  she  should  provide. 

And  there  were  two  more  incidents  connected  with 
the  same  matters  which  none  of  the  parties  most  inter- 
ested knew  about: 

Betty  Clancy  had  gone  into  the  house  by  the  door- 
way at  the  same  time  that  Carruthers  entered  it  at  the 
window;  and  she  had  turned  into  the  music-room 
through  another  doorway,  but  had  stepped  backward 
again  when  she  discovered,  or  thought  she  did,  two 
significant  gestures  that  passed  between  Carruthers 
and  Roberta  while  he  searched  among  the  music  sheets. 

Betty  kept  her  place,  too,  and  looked  on,  with  more 
or  less  understanding,  at  what  followed. 

The  other  incident  had  bearing,  also,  upon  what 
was  to  follow. 

Harvard,  a  trifle  earlier,  entered  Katherine's  room 
from  his  own,  in  search  of  such  a  trivial  article  as  a 
pin.  He  saw  one  that  had  been  dropped  on  the  blot- 


218  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

ter-pad  of  her  writing  desk,  and  as  he  bent  fonrard  to 
secure  it,  he  saw  something  besides. 

There  was  a  half  sheet  of  note-paper  there,  with  the 
tracing  of  a  pencil  upon  it  that  had  been  impressed 
through  another  half  sheet  from  which  that  one  had 
been  torn;  and  the  impression  was  as  easily  legible  as 
the  literal  pencil-marks  would  have  been. 

"The  rustic  seat  under  the  box-elder  after  mid- 
night," was  what  he  saw  and  read. 

When  he  went  from  the  room  he  forgot  t»  take  the 
pin  with  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVHI 

A  NIGHT  OF  MANY  DANGEBS 

"THE  rustic  seat  under  the  box-elder,  after  mid- 
night," Bing  repeated  to  himself  as  he  went  out  of 
Katherine's  room  totally  forgetful  of  the  pin  he  had 
gone  after ;  and  he  added,  perplexedly :  "In  Katherine's 
writing — written  upon  another  half  sheet  and  im- 
pressed through  it  upon  the  one  I  saw.  She  had  torn 
that  half  sheet  from  this  one  and  carried  it  out  with 
her,  so  it  was  intended  for  somebody — for  whom,  I 
wonder?" 

He  joined  the  others  on  the  veranda,  and  although 
he  responded  to  such  conversation  as  was  addressed  di- 
rectly to  him,  and  occasionally  made  a  remark  him- 
self, his  mentality  continued  to  dwell  upon  the  mys- 
terious message  he  had  seen  and  read  in  Katherine's 
room. 

"The  rustic  bench — after  midnight,"  he  kept  on  re- 
peating to  himself.  "After  midnight  might  be  any  time 
between  twelve  o'clock  and  daylight.  Can  it  be  possible 
that  Katherine  has  made  an  appointment  to  meet  some- 
body there  at  such  a  time?" 

He  could  not  understand  it,  and  least  of  all  could 
he  bring  himself  to  believe  it;  but  there  was  the  evi- 
dence of  his  own  visual  sense,  the  certainty  of  her 
handwriting,  and  the  seeming  fact  that  the  half  sheet 
upon  which  the  actual  message  had  been  written  had 
been  torn  away  to  save  bulk,  probably,  and  carried 

219 


220  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

in  the  hand  to  deliver — yes,  to  deliver  unseen — into 
the  hand  of  the  person  for  whom  it  was  intended. 

He  noticed,  then,  for  the  first  time,  that  Belknap 
was  not  present  on  the  veranda. 

"Where  is  Belknap?"  he  asked  generally. 

Nobody  answered;  nobody  knew;  then  Miss  Loring 
remarked : 

"He  has  probably  gone  to  his  room,  Mr.  Harvard. 
I  saw  him  go  into  the  house  about  nine  o'clock.*'  Bing 
looked  at  his  watch  and  found  that  the  time  was  a 
few  moments  past  ten. 

He  left  his  chair  and  strolled  down  the  steps  and 
along  one  of  the  paths  to  think. 

There  was  no  definite  objective  in  his  mind,  but  after 
a  time,  and  somewhat  to  his  surprise  at  that,  he  found 
himself  before  the  rustic  bench  under  the  box-elder,  by 
the  shore  of  the  lake — so  he  sat  down. 

Betty  Clancy  had  been  likewise  disturbed  by  what 
she  had  seen  in  the  music-room,  for  she  had  seen 
enough  for  her  quick  wits  and  lively  intuition  to  read 
with  more  or  less  correctness. 

She  was  convinced,  for  example,  that  Carruthers 
and  the  senorita  were  by  no  means  strangers  to  one  an- 
other, although  they  maintained  the  attitude  of  ap- 
pearing to  be;  also,  she  had  convinced  herself  that 
there  had  been  a  passage  of  words  between  the  two  at 
the  piano  while  Carruthers  was  arranging  the  music 
on  the  rack,  and  picking  up  the  fallen  sheet  which  she 
believed  to  have  been  purposely  dislodged. 

Now,  Betty  was  mischievous  rather  than  suspicious. 

She  read  nothing  more  in  the  episode  at  the  piano 
than  a  hidden  and  unsuspected  romance ;  but  romances 
interested  her,  always,  whether  between  book  covers, 
or  in  the  open,  between  persons  of  her  acquaintance. 

So,  Betty  was  watchful;  she  scented  an  approaching 


A  NIGHT  OF  MANY  DANGERS          221 

love-scene  between  the  man  with  the  scar  and  the 
pianiste ;  she  knew  that  since  Carruthers's  arrival  there 
had  not  been  opportunity  for  the  exchange  of  con- 
fidences between  him  and  the  senorita,  save  that  brief  in- 
terchange at  the  piano,  and,  therefore — well,  it  was 
plain  to  Betty  that  they  had  agreed  to  seek  a  better 
opportunity  before  the  night  was  done,  and  while  any 
idea  of  spying  upon  them  was  farthest  from  her 
thoughts,  she  did  want  to  satisfy  herself  that  she  had 
guessed  correctly.  She  made  her  own  plans  accord- 
ingly- 

Black  Julius  was  also  vaguely  disturbed  and  uneasy 
that  night. 

The  scene  that  he  had  witnessed  at  the  old  mill  in 
the  early  morning  had  thoroughly  convinced  him  of 
Belknap's  duplicity — and  that  it  was  the  sort  of 
duplicity  that  seemed  to  him  to  threaten  his  beloved 
mistress,  or  her  husband,  or  their  property :  the  latter 
more  likely,  since  Julius  had  convinced  himself  that 
Belknap  was  a  thief  in  disguise. 

So,  Julius,  hovering  about  among  the  paths,  but 
keeping  himself  unseen,  watched  the  lighted  windows  of 
Belknap's  room  until,  somewhat  after  eleven  o'clock, 
they  became  suddenly  black — and  Julius  had  already 
been  so  mindfully  suspicious  of  Belknap's  character 
and  habits  that  he  knew  it  to  be  unprecedented  for  that 
person  to  retire  so  early. 

Julius  waited,  thinking  that  the  man  might  appear 
on  the  veranda ;  but  when,  after  a  reasonable  time, 
he  did  not  do  that,  Julius  entered  the  house  at  the 
rear,  ascended  to  the  third  floor,  and  delibertely  tapped 
at  Belknap's  door,  with  an  excuse  ready  if  the  man 
were  there  to  answer. 

There  was  no  response,  so  Julius  turned  the  knob 
and  entered  the  room. 


222  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Belknap  was  not  there;  the  bed  had  not  been  dis- 
turbed; and  Belknap's  evening  clothes  had  been  flung 
carelessly  across  the  back  of  a  chair,  showing  that  he 
had  changed  before  he  went  out. 

Julius  searched  farther,  then,  by  the  aid  of  a  small 
flash-light  that  he  always  carried  for  emergency  use 
around  an  automobile ;  and  because  he  had  been  the  one 
to  direct  the  stowing  of  Belknap's  effects  when  they 
came  down  from  the  city,  he  soon  found  that  a  black 
leather  handbag  which  should  have  been  there  was 
missing. 

Julius  was  gravely  puzzled,  and  he  hurried  down  the 
stairs  to  inform  his  master  of  his  discovery.  "Mis' 
Kitty,"  he  decided,  "mustn't  be  bothered  with  such 
trifles." 

But  Harvard  was  not  to  be  found  anywhere,  and  the 
black,  after  waiting  around  for  a  time,  figured  it  out 
that  Belknap's  interview  with  the  stranger  at  the  old 
mill  that  morning  had  been  for  the  purpose  of  perfect- 
ing plans  for  the  robbery  of  Myquest  that  night,  and 
he  decided  that  he  would  remain  in  the  grounds  and 
watch — till  daylight,  if  need  be. 

There  is  just  one  more  thing  of  which  cognizance 
must  be  taken  if  we  are  thoroughly  to  understand  the 
events  that  followed. 

Ex-lieutenant  Rodney  Rushton,  whose  services  Tom 
Clancy  had  retained  for  reasons  already  known  to  us, 
possessed  one  gift  that  had  taken  him  over  many  a  dif- 
ficulty that  might  have  put  a  shrewder  man  at  fault: 
tenacity  of  purpose. 

Having  been  directed  to  "Find  out  who  Belknap  is," 
he  had  never  had  an  idea  of  stopping  investigation  until 
he  did  find  out.  Having  been  balked  in  Arizona,  and 
in  New  Orleans,  he  had  sent  a  boy  with  a  camera  to  the 
neighborhood  of  Myquest,  and  he  had  secured  a  snap- 


A  NIGHT  OF  MANY  DANGERS          223 

shot  of  Mr.  Conrad  Belknap  (among  others,  to  be  sure) 
without  arousing  suspicion. 

He  had  had  that  one  head  of  the  group  enlarged,  and 
hundreds  of  the  enlargements  had  been  printed  for  him. 
He  had  sent  them  broadcast  over  the  country,  accom- 
panied by  the  simple  request :  "Please  identify,  if  pos- 
sible." 

It  was  by  the  last  mail  that  Monday  evening  that  he 
received  the  first  definite  reply — that  the  first  informa- 
tion on  the  subject  came  to  him  that  was  worth  con- 
sideration as  a  possible  clue. 

He  realized  the  importance  of  discussing  the  matter 
with  Clancy  without  delay,  but  a  telephone  call  to 
Tom's  home  informed  him  that  Mr.  Clancy  was  stay- 
ing at  Myquest  for  the  entire  week,  so  he  called  him  up 
at  Harvard's  home,  and  announced  that  he  had  some- 
thing important  to  discuss,  and  would  drive  down  late 
in  the  evening. 

Unexpected  duties  detained  him,  so  that  it  was  late 
when  he  started,  but  he  called  Tom  up  again  in  the 
meantime,  and  asked  that  he  should  meet  him  at  the 
lodge  gate  at  twelve,  which  was  the  earliest  that  he 
could  get  there,  possibly. 

Truly  that  forthcoming  midnight  promised  to  be  re- 
plete with  incidents,  as  it  already  was  with  appoint- 
ments and  surveillances. 

Katherine  was  to  seek  Belknap  beneath  the  box-elder 
by  the  lake,  after  midnight.  Roberta  and  Carruthers 
had  made  the  same  appointment,  and  the  Night  Wind 
was  already  at  the  spot,  waiting.  Black  Julius  was 
hot  on  the  trail  of  Belknap.  Betty  had  planned  to 
watch  the  senorita,  and  Rushton  and  Clancy  were  also 
to  be  abroad  that  night. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE    HOUSE    OF   ALADDIN 

WHEN  Harvard  seated  himself  upon  the  rustic  bench 
under  the  tree,  the  time  was  approximately  half  past 
ten,  and  he  had  been  there  a  full  hour  when  he  roused 
himself  to  a  realization  of  what  he  was  doing. 

"Good  Heavens !"  he  exclaimed  audibly,  but  softly. 
"What  am  I  doing!  Spying  upon  Katherine."  But 
instantly  he  denied  the  charge  that  he  had  made  against 
himself. 

He  had  not  gone  there  to  spy;  he  had  not  thought 
of  such  a  thing;  he  had  been  puzzled,  and  he  had  wan- 
dered to  that  spot  merely  because  the  location  of  it 
had  been  uppermost  in  his  mind. 

"My  goodness!"  he  murmured,  smiling.  "What  a 
thing  for  me  to  do — to  come  here  and  sit  down  and 
wait,  simply  because —  '  He  got  to  his  feet  and  strode 
swiftly  away,  taking  a  course  that  led  him  to  the  lodge 
gate  and  out  upon  the  highway,  for  he  felt  the  neces- 
sity of  the  exercise  that  a  long  and  rapid  walk  would 
give  him.  "Katherine  may  meet  whomsoever  she 
pleases,  at  any  time  and  place  that  best  suits  her,  if 
she  wishes  to,  and  she  can  inform  me  about  it  at  her 
own  good  pleasure.  She  always  has  reasons  for  doing 
things,  and  her  reasons  are  always  good  ones,"  he  an- 
nounced to  himself  as  he  passed  the  gate. 

The  saving  grace  which  assisted  Belknap's  plans — 
and  Katherine's — that  night  was  that  both  were  a 

224 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ALADDIN  225 

trifle  ahead  of  time  in  arriving  at  the  appointed  place. 

Belknap  left  his  room  soon  after  eleven.  He  had 
stowed  some  necessary  articles  in  the  black  bag  which 
he  lowered  to  the  ground  from  one  of  his  windows  by  a 
cord — after  the  watchful  Julius  had  transferred  his 
espionage  from  the  windows  to  the  veranda. 

He  then  descended  the  stairs  nonchalantly  to  the 
first  floor,  and  encountered  nobody,  as  it  happened, 
although  he  was  prepared  for  such  an  event ;  but  every- 
body was  outside. 

He  went  out  at  the  side  entrance,  darted  into  the 
shadows,  made  his  way  cautiously  to  the  point  under 
his  room  windows,  secured  his  bag,  and  went  swiftly 
toward  the  lake,  having  determined  that  he  would  con- 
ceal himself  in  the  woods  behind  the  rustic  bench,  but 
at  a  point  where  he  could  keep  an  eye  upon  it,  until 
Katherine  should  appear. 

A  strong  point  with  Belknap  was  that  he  never 
neglected  caution:  therefore,  without  having  made  a 
sound  in  his  approach  to  the  place,  he  made  the  dis- 
covery that  the  bench  was  already  occupied — and  by 
a  man. 

He  watched  and  waited,  not  without  misgivings,  a 
time  that  seemed  interminable;  but  at  last  Harvard 
left  the  bench,  and  Belknap  recognized  him — and  at- 
tributed the  circumstance  of  his  being  there  to  acci- 
dent. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Katherine  came — fully  ten 
minutes  before  midnight. 

She  also  approached  the  spot  through  the  woods, 
and  so  silently  that  even  the  watchful  Belknap  did  not 
hear  her;  but  when  she  crossed  the  open  space  to  the 
elder,  he  saw  and  recognized  her. 

Instead  of  following  after  her,  his  caution  being 
predominant,  he  uttered  a  low  whistle,  which  brought 


226  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

her  to  a  standstill,  listening.  When  he  repeated  it, 
she  went  to  him  among  the  trees. 

Neither  of  them  suspected  that  other  ears  than  their 
own  had  heard  that  warning  whistle ;  but  there  was  one 
who  did — who  heard  it  and  crept  toward  the  sound  of 
it — who  caught  a  recognizing  glimpse  of  Katherine 
as  she  returned  from  the  tree  to  the  wood — and  who 
very  nearly  forgot  to  watch  on,  because  of  the  utterly 
amazing  fact. 

Katherine  went  close  to  Belknap. 

"Do  not  speak,"  she  said  in  a  whisper.  "Make  no 
sound  whatever,  if  you  can  avoid  it.  Follow  me." 

She  led  the  way  among  the  huge  trees  where  the 
darkness  was  so  deep  that  Belknap  felt  as  if  he  was  pur- 
suing only  a  shadow  that  was  more  dense  than  those 
around  it.  Meanwhile,  the  owner  of  those  other  ears 
that  had  heard  the  whistled  signal,  came  to  a  full  stop, 
stood  irresolute  for  a  moment,  and  then  deliberately 
turned  away  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Katherine  led  her  companion  to  a  point  where  she 
halted  a  moment  as  if  to  rest.  In  reality  she  did  it 
in  order  to  press  a  finger  upon  a  certain  spot  in  the 
bark  of  the  tree  against  which  she  leaned.  After  a  sec- 
ond or  two  she  went  on. 

They  came,  presently,  to  a  long  flight  of  hard 
wood  steps  which  she  proceeded  to  mount.  When  they 
were  nearly  at  the  top,  Belknap  murmured: 

"Can  I  venture  to  make  a  remark,  Mrs.  Harvard?" 

"If  you  speak  softly,  yes,"  she  answered  without 
turning  her  head.  "What  is  it?" 

"I  thought  that  I  had  thoroughly  looked  over  the 
place,  but  I  never  saw  these  steps  before.  I  didn't  know 
they  were  here." 

"They  weren't,"  she  replied  laconically.  "Come  on, 
please." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ALADDIN  227 

A  steep  and  winding  path  succeeded  the  steps.  It 
twisted  so  amazingly  about  between  boulders  that  it 
was  not  discernible  as  a  path  even  in  daylight. 

Again  Katherine  paused,  half-way  along  the  wind- 
ing path.  She  pressed  upon  two  more  secret  places 
without  Belknap's  suspecting  that  she  did  so.  The  first 
pressure  converted  the  stairs  they  had  just  climbed 
into  a  smooth  and  steep  and  inaccessible  surface;  the 
second  one  converted  the  same  sort  of  inclined  surface 
above  them  to  steps. 

Thus,  presently,  they  arrived  at  the  door  to  the  Nest, 
which  was  wide  open — for  Katherine  had  negotiated 
that  secret  mechanism  while  she  climbed  the  last  flight 
of  steps. 

She  passed  inside,  into  black  darkness.  Belknap  fol- 
lowed her,  wonderingly;  and  as  he  was  on  the  point  of 
asking  a  question,  he  heard  the  click  of  a  closing  door. 
There  was  no  other  sound  or  jar  to  it. 

Then,  so  suddenly  that  it  startled  him,  the  room  in 
which  they  stood  was  flooded  with  light,  and  Belknap 
discovered  that  he  was  facing  Katherine  across  a  huge, 
square-cornered  table  of  solid  oak,  in  a  great  room 
that  might  have  been  "the  dream  come  true"  of  any 
artist,  musician,  writer,  or  pronounced  sybarite. 

Long  accustomed  as  he  was  to  manifest  no  surprise 
at  anything,  Belknap  could  not  conceal  his  amazement. 

"Aladdin's  lamp !"  he  exclaimed.  "Where  do  you 
keep  it  concealed,  dear  lady?  And  where  is  the  jinee?" 

"The  jinee,"  she  replied,  smiling  a  little,  "is  here. 
Would  you  like  proof  of  it?  Look  behind  you." 

He  turned  slowly. 

As  he  did  so  the  lights  went  out — all  save  one  which 
glowed  faintly  by  comparison  with  the  recent  illumina- 
tion in  the  ceiling  over  their  heads. 

Even   Belknap's    stoic   self   could  barely   repress   a 


228  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

startled  exclamation  and  an  involuntary  shudder  when 
he  discovered  that  he  had  been  standing  within  a  few 
inches  of  a  floorless  space  into  the  black  depths  of 
which  a  spiral  staircase  descended;  and  as  he  turned 
again  to  question  Katherine,  the  last  light  was  shut  off. 

"Oh,  I  say!"  he  exclaimed  with  a  half  laugh,  and 
yet  with  a  touch  of  petulance ;  but  before  he  could  add 
to  that  remark  all  the  lights  were  turned  on  again,  and 
he  saw  that  Katherine  stood  near  the  center  of  the 
other  half  of  the  room  beyond  the  table.  The  trap  in 
the  floor  behind  him  had  closed  itself  without  a  sound. 

"Be  seated,  Mr.  Belknap,"  she  said  to  him  formally. 
"That  is  not  a  trap  in  which  to  catch  the  unwary,  that 
I  showed  you.  It  is  my  cellar — my  storehouse,  carved 
out  of  the  solid  rock.  It  is  one — only  one — of  a 
thousand  secrets  of  this  place." 

"Why  did  you  show  me  that  much?"  he  asked,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders.  "Was  it  to  warn  me,  perhaps?" 

"I  did  it  as  a  reply  to  your  former  question — to 
prove  to  you  that  the  jinee  of  my  conjuring  is  con- 
stantly at  my  hand,  in  this  house,  prepared  for  instant 
obedience." 

"I  understand,"  Belknap  replied  soberly.  "That  is 
at  once  a  warning  and  a  threat.  Have  no  fear  of  me, 
Mrs.  Harvard.  While  I  am  here  I  will  be  a  'slave  of  the 
lamp.'  " 

Katherine,  in  the  coldly  formal  tone  in  which  she 
had  last  spoken,  instructed  Belknap  concerning  his 
surroundings. 

"Over  against  the  wall  behind  you,  there  is  a  wide  and 
soft  couch  where  you  may  rest,  and  sleep,"  she  said. 
"Such  conveniences  as  you  require,  you  will  readily  dis- 
cover, if  you  seek  them.  Before  I  go  I  will  switch  off 
the  major  part  of  the  lights,  leaving  the  others  burning, 
which  you  may  turn  on  and  off  at  will.  Such  doors  as 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ALADDIN  229 

you  find  fastened  against  you,  may  not  be  opened  by 
any  skill  of  burglary.  I  mention  that  fact  merely  to 
spare  you  useless  effort  in  case  you  have  brought  your 
tools  of  the  craft  with  you  in  your  bag." 

"I  assure  you — "  he  began. 

"Don't.     It  is  unnecessary." 

"We  are  inside  of  the  Swiss  chalet,  on  the  bluff,  are 
we  not?"  Belknap  asked. 

"Yes." 

"What  about  this  brilliant  illumination — in  case 
somebody  outside  should  look  in  this  direction?" 

"Not  a  ray  of  light  within  the  house  can  be  dis- 
covered from  outside,"  she  answered.  "You  will  find 
reading  matter  here,  if  you  want  it,"  she  went  on. 
"There  are  cards  for  solitaire  in  the  table  drawer ;  also 
chess,  for  working  out  problems,  if  that  pastime  enter- 
tains you.  If  you  can  cook,  there  are  electrical  con- 
veniences, and  material  for  anything  which  I  have 
thought  you  might  require ;  only,  while  you  remain,  you 
will  have  to  forego  fresh  meats  and  vegetables.  You 
will  find  sufficient  canned  goods,  however.  The  water 
which  constantly  flows  in  and  out  out  of  the  porcelain 
tank  in  the  electric  kitchenette,  is  from  a  never-failing 
spring,  and  is  nearly  as  cold  as  ice-water.  That,  with 
tea,  coffee,  and  perhaps  chocolate,  must  suffice  you  as 
beverages. 

"When  occasion  makes  it  necessary  that  I  should 
come  here  to  see  you,  you  will  hear  the  humming  of 
an  electric  buzzer,  and  I  will  invariably  announce  my 
approach  at  least  twenty  minutes  before  I  will  appear." 

She  stopped  a  moment,  and  an  enigmatical  smile 
softened  her  expression.  Then : 

"I  will  suggest  that  you  had  best  not  stand  too  near 
to  the  door  when  you  are  expecting  me  to  arrive.  The 
jinee  is  always  there  on  guard." 


230  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  you  mean  by  that  remark, 
Mrs.  Harvard?"  Belknap  inquired,  impressed  by  her 
manner. 

"I  mean  that  in  case  you  should  be  too  eager  to  re- 
ceive me,  when  you  have  been  signaled  that  I  am  coming, 
it  would  not  be  safe  for  you  to  stand  too  near  to  the 
door.  There  is  another  entrance  to  my  cellar  in  the 
rock,  just  in  front  of  it,  which  I  shall  probably  open 
as  I  approach.  You  might  get  a  nasty  fall,  you  know, 
for  there  is  no  spiral  staircase  there." 

"By  Jove!"  Belknap  could  not  refrain  from  ex- 
claiming in  his  admiration. 

"You  are  the  only  person,"  she  went  on,  unmoved, 
"save  myself,  who  has  set  foot  within  this  building 
since  it  was  completed.  Nobody  comes  here " 

"Not  your  husband?" 

"Nobody — and  none  will  come." 

"What  if  I  should  want  you  to  come  to  me — in 
case  you  should  remain  too  long  absent?  Is  there  some 
method  by  which  I  can  signal  to  you — from  a  window 
—or " 

"Mr.  Belknap,  while  you  remain  here,  you  will  not 
see  daylight  once.  There  are  windows,  but  they  may 
not  be  opened — if  you  would  be  entirely  secure.  You 
will  have  plenty  of  air,  however — the  ventilation  system 
is  perfect,  but  electricity  must  take  the  place  of  sun- 
light. But,  if  you  should  want  me" — she  crossed  the 
room  swiftly  and  lifted  a  small  Japanese  idol  that  stood 
upon  one  end  of  the  granite  shelf  above  the  fireplace — 
"you  will  find  a  button  here.  By  pressing  it  five  times 
in  succession — remember,  five  times — it  will  convey 
a  silent  signal  to  me  which  I  will  presently  discover. 
That  is  all  for  the  present,  I  think." 

She  turned  abruptly  and  moved  swiftly  toward  the 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ALADDIN 

door,  which,  to  his  profound  amazement,  swung  open 
as  she  advanced. 

He  darted  forward  to  detain  her — not  by  force,  but 
by  expostulation  and  argument — for  there  was  much 
that  he  wished  yet  to  say  to  her,  and  to  hear  her  say ; 
but  she  had  passed  the  threshold  before  he  could  take 
the  second  step  in  her  direction;  the  massive  door 
closed  itself  swiftly  and  silently — without  a  sound  save 
a  delicate  click  of  its  mechanism ;  and  Belknap  could 
see,  when  he  stared  at  the  place  beyond  which  she  had 
disappeared,  only  a  smooth  surface,  unrelieved  by  knob 
or  bolt  or  visible  hinge. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

BLACK    JULIUS    SPEAKS 

KATHERINE,  making  her  way  back  to  the  house, 
touching  hidden  secrets  here  and  there  as  she  pro- 
gressed— to  facilitate  her  progress,  and,  metaphori- 
cally, to  "shut  her  gates  behind  her" — selected  the  same 
route  by  which  she  had  led  Belknap  to  the  Nest. 

Naturally  she  passed  again  quite  close  to  the  rustic 
bench  under  the  box-elder — and  as  naturally  she 
glanced  toward  it  in  passing. 

She  halted. 

Outlined  against  the  opalescent  surface  of  the  lake 
beyond,  she  plainly  saw  two  persons  seated  there,  side 
by  side,  and  quite  close  together;  moreover,  they  were 
so  perfectly  silhouetted  against  the  faintly  shining 
background  that  she  recognized  both,  on  the  instant. 

"Strange,"  she  thought,  and  moved  silently  back- 
ward, away  from  them,  before  she  continued  on  her  way. 
"Roberta  and  Mr.  Carruthers  seated  there  together  at 
this  hour,  and  in  an  intimate  position  that  suggests 
former  acquaintance.  I  wonder " 

She  did  not  complete  the  conjectural  thought,  for 
just  ahead  of  her,  in  one  of  the  paths  that  led  to 
the  house,  she  saw  Betty  Clancy  hurrying  away. 

"That  is  strange,  too,"  Katherine  commented 
silently.  Then  she  smiled,  and  added  to  her  thought: 
"Why,  of  course !  Betty  walked  down  to  the  lake  with 
them,  and,  little  matchmaker  that  she  is,  scented  a 

232 


BLACK  JULIUS  SPEAKS  283 

possible  romance,  and  so  sought  the  first  excuse  she 
could  think  of  to  leave  them  together." 

She  permitted  Betty  to  enter  the  house  before  her; 
then,  as  she  ascended  the  steps  to  the  veranda,  she  en- 
countered Black  Julius. 

"Why,  Julius!"  she  exclaimed.  "You  ought  to  be 
in  bed." 

"Yes,  Mis'  Kitten,  I  know  it.  But  I  thought  I'd 
wait  fo'  Mr.  Harvard.  He  hasn't  come  in  yet ;  and  Mr. 
Clancy  is  out,  too." 

"Where  did  they  go?"  she  asked,  assuming  that  they 
were  together. 

"Mr.  Harvard  went  down  toward  the  lake  about  half 
past  ten,  so  Mr.  Archer  told  me.  And  Mr.  Clancy 
went  out  'bout  half  an  hour  ago,  Mis'  Kitten." 

"Oh,  well,  you  need  not  wait  for  them,  Julius.  They 
are  doubtless  taking  a  walk  together.  They  are  just 
'boys  again'  whenever  they  can  get  by  themselves" ;  and 
with  a  smiling  good-night  to  her  faithful  servitor,  she 
entered  the  house  and  sought  her  own  room. 

Julius  stared  after  her,  slowly  shaking  his  head. 
He  was  deeply  puzzled,  and  profoundly  troubled. 

"No,"  the  black  muttered  to  himself  "She  wouldn't 
take  that  man  to  the  Nest.  She  has  just  sent  him 
off  about  his  business  ;  but — but — but '; 

Down  at  the  lodge  gate,  Harvard,  returning  from  his 
long  and  rapid  walk,  came  upon  Tom  Clancy  and 
Rushton  engaged  in  earnest  conversation. 

"What  the  dickens — "  he  began;  but  Tom  inter- 
rupted. 

"Gee,  Bing.  I'm  glad  you  happened  along.  Rush- 
ton  has  made  a  most  extraordinary  discovery 
about  that  guy  Belknap — if  only  it  turns  out  to  be 
true.  And,  say,  we'll  have  to  take  the  old  Senator  into 
our  confidence  in  order  to  determine  that  point." 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"What  in  blazes  are  you  talking  about,  Tom?" 
Bing  inquired  impatiently. 

"I'm  talking  about  Belknap.  Rushton  has  got  a  line 
on  him.  Come  on  into  the  house,  Rushton.  We'll  go  to 
Bing's  den  and  talk  it  over." 

When  Harvard,  accompanied  by  Clancy  and  Rush- 
ton,  approached  the  veranda,  Black  Julius  stepped  out 
from  a  shadow  among  the  shrubbery  just  in  front  of 
them,  and  his  appearance  was  so  unexpected  that 
Rushton's  right  hand  flew  to  the  pocket  where  he 
carried  a  weapon;  but  he  grinned  in  the  darkness,  and 
drew  forth  a  handkerchief  instead  as  he  heard  Julius 
say: 

"Mr.  Harvard,  sir." 

"Yes,  Julius.     What  is  it?"  Harvard  returned. 

"May  I  speak  with  you  a  moment,  sir?" 

Clancy  and  Rushton  moved  onward,  and  Julius,  in 
a  low  tone,  made  the  report  to  his  master  that  he  had 
determined  upon. 

"I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,  for  doing  things  that  are 
outside  of  my  duties,"  he  began  (Julius,  remember,  was 
an  educated  negro,  and  his  language,  save  for  an  oc- 
casional slurring  of  the  vowels,  was  nearly  always  cor- 
rect. "But  I  have  seen  certain  things  that  have  made 
me  watchful,  and — I  have  discovered  other  things  which 
I  think  I  ought  to  tell  to  you." 

"Won't  they  keep  till  morning,  Julius?" 

"No,  sir ;  begging  your  pardon." 

"Things  about  what?    Things  about  whom,  Julius?" 

"About  Mr.  Belknap,  sir." 

"Are  they  matters  which  you  believe  I  should  know 
about  to-night?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Very  good.     We  are  going  to  my  lounging-room 


BLACK  JULIUS  SPEAKS  235 

now  to  discuss  that  same  person.  You  may  come  with 
us,  Julius." 

In  Harvard's  den,  behind  closed  doors,  he  announced : 

"Julius  has  something  to  tell  us  about  Belknap.  I 
think  it'will  be  well  to  hear  what  he  has  to  say  before 
we  listen  to  your  report,  Rushton.  It  begins  to  look, 
to  me,  as  if  everybody  save  myself  has  dug  up  some 
definite  criticism  of  Belknap.  I  am  thoroughly  op- 
posed to  discussing  the  character  of  one  of  my  guests 
in  this  manner,  but,  because  only  my  best  friend,  my 
confidential  emplo}ree,  and  Julius,  who  is  always  trust- 
worthy, are  here,  I  will  consent  to  it.  Now,  Julius, 
what  have  you  to  tell  us?" 

"Mr.  Harvard,"  Julius  replied  soberly,  "in  ihe  be- 
ginning, I  just  didn't  like  Mr.  Belknap;  that  was  the 
onliest  thing  I  had  against  him ;  but,  sir,  I  set  myself 
to  watching  him.  At  first  I  didn't  see  anything  that 
I  could  put  my  finger  on,  that  was  against  him,  only" 
• — he  turned  toward  the  others — "you  must  remember 
that  I  have  been  Mis'  Harvard's  special  servant  ever 
since  she  was  bo'n,  and  there  ain't  no  expression  of 
her  face  that  Black  Julius  don't  know  the  meanin'  of. 
I  was  going  to  say  that  at  first  I  didn't  see  anything, 
only  that  Mis'  Kitty — excuse  me ;  Mis'  Harvard — that 
she  certainly  did  seem  to  me  to  despise  him,  an'  to  be 
just  a  little  wee  scrimpsy  bit  afraid  of  him.  That  set 
me  to  watchin'  closer." 

"Get  down  to  the  facts,  Julius,''  Harvard  com- 
manded. 

"Yes,  sir.  There  wasn't  any  facts  till  Mr.  Belknap 
was  called  to  the  telephone  last  night.  I  knew  it  wasn't 
right,  sir,  but  I  fixed  the  switchboard  so  that  I  could 
hear,  too,  and " 

"Julius !"  Harvard  exclaimed,  aghast. 

"I  know,  sir,  it  wasn't  right;  but  I  did  it  just  the 


236  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

same,  and  I'm  glad  of  it — seeing  what  has  happened 
since.  I  didn't  hear  all  that  was  said.  A  man  in 
Washington  was  talking,  and  he  didn't  say  much, 
'cept  to  tell  Mr.  Belknap  to  go  to  the  old  mill  on  our 
place  the  next  mawnin'  to  meet  a  man  who  would 
tell  him  the  rest.  Well,  sir,  I  went  to  the  old  mill,  too, 
and  I  got  there  first.  They  didn't  talk  English,  so  I 
couldn't  understand  what  was  said — 'ceptin'  when  they 
used  names." 

"What  names  did  you  hear  them  use?"  Rushton 
demanded,  intensely  interested. 

"I  wrote  them  down,  sir,  so  I  wouldn't  forget  them 
— those  that  were  not  familiar.  One  was  Bruce  Brain- 
ard;  an " 

"What?"  exclaimed  Harvard.  Then:  "Go  on, 
Julius;  I  understand." 

"Another  name  was  Saulsbury,  and  a  third  one  was 
a  name  that  I  used  to  know,  years  ago,  down  in  Ken- 
tucky. It  was  fielding." 

It  was  Rushton's  turn  to  manifest  surprise. 

"fielding,  did  you  say,  Julius?  What  was  the  first 
name  that  went  with  it?" 

"It  wasn't  mentioned,  sir;  but  the  first  name  of  the. 
fielding  that  I  knew  about,  years  ago,  was  Cranshaw. 
Yes,  sir;  Cranshaw  fielding." 

"Gee-whillikins !  You  don't  say !"  Rushton  ex- 
claimed. "Now,  what  do  you  know  about  that!  How 
old  was  he  when  you  knew  him,  Julius,  and  what  became 
of  him?  How  long  ago  was  it  when  you  knew  about 
him?" 

"It  is  a  good  many  years  ago,  sir — when  Senator 
Maxwilton  was  a  judge.  More  than  thirty  years  ago. 
Cranshaw  fielding  was  a  little  under  forty  years  old, 
then.  He  was  hung  for  murder,  and  it  was  Judge  Max- 
wilton who  sentenced  him." 


BLACK  JULIUS  SPEAKS  237 

Rushton,  manifesting  considerable  repressed  excite- 
ment, turned  to  Harvard  and  Clancy. 

"That  seems  to  clinch  matters  so  far  as  my  report  is 
concerned,"  he  said ;  "and  the  Senator  will  know  more, 
likely  enough.  The  Cranshaw  Belding  that  Julius 
knew  must  have  been  the  father  of — what  am  I  talk- 
ing about?  You  haven't  heard  my  report  yet.  Say, 
Julius,  is  that  all  you  can  tell  us?" 

"No,  sir;  not  quite." 

"Well,  then,  give  us  the  rest  of  it." 

"You  see,  sir,  I  was  afraid  that  those  two  who  met 
at  the  old  mill  were  planning  to  rob  us,  so  I  kept  an 
eye  on  Mr.  Belknap  all  day.  But  I  reckon  I  was  mis- 
taken, because  he  has  gone  away !" 

"Gone  away?  Left  Myquest?  Gone,  without  say- 
ing a  word  about  it  to  anybody?  Is  that  what  you 
mean  to  say,  Julius?"  Clancy  demanded. 

"Yes,  sir — with  a  satchel — soon  after  eleven,  to- 
night. He  went  through  the  woods  at  the  south  side 
of  the  lake — skulkinglike.  I  saw  him  myself." 

"Did  you  follow  him,  Julius?" 

"No,  sir.'* 

"Was  he  alone  when  you  saw  him?  Did  that  other 
chap — the  one  at  the  mill — meet  him?  Did  you  see 
anybody  with  him?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  saw  somebody  meet  him,  but  it  was  very 
dark  under  the  trees,  and — well,  sir,  one  couldn't  see 
more  than  the  outlines  of  a  person."  (Julius  would 
have  lost  his  right  arm  rather  than  tell  anybody  that 
the  outlined  figure  of  the  person  who  had  met  Belknap 
in  the  woods  was  as  familiar  to  him  as  his  own  face  in 

mirror. ) 

The  three  white  men  of  the  group  were  silent  for  a 
space;  then  Harvard  spoke. 

"What  Julius  has  told  us  compels  me  to  say  some- 


238  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

thing  that  I  had  intended  to  keep  to  myself,"  he  said. 
"You  noticed  my  surprise  when  Julius  mentioned  the 
names  of  Brainard  and  Saulsbury.  Bruce  Brainard  is 
here.  Carruthers  is  Brainard.  Saulsbury  brought  him 
first,  yesterday,  to  ask  me  if  I  would  receive  him  as 
a  guest,  under  the  assumed  name.  The  man  is  a  secret 
service  operative.  He  is  on  the  trail  of  a  man  whom 
he  believes  to  be  identical  with  Conrad  Belknap.  I  re- 
fused to  receive  him,  at  first,  but  Saulsbury  overrode 
my  objections.  Carruthers's  scar,  by  the  way,  Tom 
is  not  a  real  one,  although  it  is  as  perfect  as  if  it 
were.  It  is  stained  on.  Saulsbury  told  me  that  he  is 
wonderfully  adept  at  disguising  himself,  and  is  consid- 
ered one  of  the  best  operatives  in  Washington.  I — 

"Say,  Mr.  Harvard,"  Rushton  interrupted,  bend- 
ing forward. 

"Well,  Rushton?" 

"I  think  that  it's  about  time  that  you  listened  to 
my  report;  and,  likewise,  I  think  that  you'd  better 
wake  up  Mr.  Brainard  and  bring  him  here  before  I 
make  it.  Maybe  it  will  help  him  in  his  work,  and 
more'n  likely  he  can  help  me  in  mine." 

"Very  well,  Rushton.  Since  we  have  gone  to  such 
lengths  already,  no  doubt  you  are  right.  No,  Julius,  I 
will  go  myself." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

BRAINARD,    OF    THE    SECRET    SERVICE 

WHEN  Harvard  stepped  into  the  corridor  on  his 
way  to  Carruthers's  room  he  discovered  that  gentle- 
man in  the  act  of  ascending  the  stairs  toward  it.  He 
turned  about  when  he  heard  Harvard's  low-toned  call. 

"You  have  been  outside?"  Harvard  asked  abruptly. 

"Yes." 

"On  the  trail  of  your  man?" 

"No." 

"Belknap  has  gone.  I  thought,  possibly,  you  mighB 
know  it." 

"Gone?     Gone,  when — and  where,  Mr.  Harvard?" 

"Come  with  me,  please,"  Bing  said,  instead  of  an- 
swering the  questions.  "We  are  holding  an  impromptu 
conference  in  my  den.  Mr.  Clancy,  and  a  detective  in 
whom  I  have  every  confidence,  are  there;  also  Black 
Julius,  who  is  a  privileged  person  in  this  family. 
Julius  has  told  us  some  surprising  things  about  Bel- 
knap,  and  Rushton  still  has  something  more  to  say 
about  him.  He  would  also  like  to  hear  what  you  may 
be  willing  to  tell.  Will  you  come,  please?" 

"Yes,  thank  you.  I  will  be  glad  to.  Have  you  told 
them  who  and  what  I  am?" 

"Yes ;  and  also  that  you  are  Brainard,  instead  of 
Carruthers." 

Introductions  were  quickly  made.  At  the  last,  Har- 
vard added:  "And  this  is  Julius,  Mr.  Carruthers.  (We 
will  stick  to  that  name,  and  not  use  Brainard,  I  think.) 

239 


240  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

He  has  served  in  Mrs.  Harvard's  family  all  his  life." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Julius  had  seen  Carruthers 
close  up.  As  he  turned  to  face  him,  the  others  saw 
the  negro  give  a  violent  start,  heard  him  catch  his 
breath  in  a  short,  quick  gasp — saw  him  lift  one  hand 
and  brush  it  across  his  eyes.  They  supposed  it  was 
the  livid  scar  that  startled  him  so,  notwithstanding 
that  he  had  been  told  that  it  was  not  a  real  one — or, 
possibly  it  was  astonishment  because  the  stranger 
grasped  him  by  the  hand,  as  he  would  have  done  to  a 
white  man. 

"I  foresee  that  Julius  and  I  will  be  friends,"  Car- 
ruthers said  while  he  held  the  negro's  gaze  for  a  short 
moment.  Then  he  turned  to  the  others,  and  Julius 
crossed  the  room  on  a  pretense  of  bringing  up  another 
chair,  although  one  had  already  been  shoved  forward. 

"You  may  be  seated,  Julius ;  there  is  no  necessity 
for  you  to  stand,"  Harvard  remarked.  "Tom,  will 
you,  as  concisely  as  possible,  tell  Mr.  Carruthers  of 
what  has  already  been  said?" 

Clancy  did  so,  rapidly;  and  although  Carruthers 
listened  intently,  he  made  no  comment. 

"Now,  Rushton,  we  will  listen  to  you,"  Clancy 
finished. 

"Mine  '11  be  short,  but  to  the  point,"  Rushton  an- 
swered— and  it  was  noticeable  that  he  addressed  him- 
self directly  to  Carruthers,  as  if  in  him  he  had  already 
recognized  a  master  mind  for  criminal  investigation. 
"Mr.  Clancy  didn't  cotton  to  Belknap  from  the  first. 
He  asked  me  to  find  out  who  he  was — and  is.  I  couldn't 
get  no  satisfaction  from  any  lines  that  we  already  had 
on  him,  so  I  sent  a  kid  down  here  with  what  looked 
like  a  toy-camera.  He's  a  little  guy,  but  older  than 
he  looks ;  and  he's  smart.  I  figured  that  nobody'd  pay 


BRAINARD,  OF  THE  SECRET  SERVICE 

any  attention  to  a  kid  takin*  snap-shots  with  a  toy. 
See?" 

Nobody  replied.     Rushton  continued: 

"He  got  two.  One  of  'em  was  a  corker.  I  had  it 
enlarged,  and  a  thousand  of  'em  printed.  I  sent  one 
to  the  police  of  every  city,  big  an'  little,  an'  to  almost 
every  town  I  could  think  of,  with  the  request,  'Please 
identify,  if  possible.'  When  I'd  finished  sendin'  'em,  I 
had  a  dozen  of  'em  left.  Then  I  got  a  hunch.  Says 
I  to  myself,  'That  guy  went  to  Archer's  just  to  get 
himself  took  to  Myquest.  He  ain't  there  on  no  common 
stunt,  either,  and  he  ain't  no  common  crook,  or  I'd 
have  had  a  line  on  him  before  now.  What's  his  lay?' 
says  I.  'Card-sharpin',  mebby,  or  blackmail.'  Black- 
mail sort  of  fitted  my  sconce ;  and,  if  that  was  his 
lay,  it  followed  that  he  thought  he  knew  something 
about  the  Maxwilton  family,  or  about  Mr.  Harvard, 
that  would  draw  coin.  Well,  I  sent  the  dozen  pictures 
I  had  left  to  every  place  on  the  map  around  about  the 
locality  where  Lady  Kate  was  born,  in  Kentucky — sent 
'em  to  constables,  and  all  that.  Then  I  had  another 
hundred  printed  and  sent  more  to  other  places  down 
there;  and  I  looked  up  a  list  of  Mr.  Harvard's  class- 
mates in  college  and  sent  them  some — and  so  on. 

"Well,  Mr.  Carruthers,  I  got  this  letter  this  after- 
noon. You  read  it  out  loud.  It's  the  finish  of  what 
I've  got  to  say." 

Carruthers  received  the  letter,  glanced  through  it, 
and  then  did  as  requested.  It  was  dated  from  a  town 
in  Kentucky  that  was  located  less  than  a  score  of  miles 
from  the  homestead  of  Senator  Maxwilton. 

The  letter  was  as  follows : 


DEAE  SIR: 

Your  letter  with  picture  received.     First  off  I  didn't  think  I 
knew  any  such  person,  but  when  I  looked  at  it  some  more  I  got 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

to  reckoning  that  I'd  seen  him  somewhere;  and  finally  I  remem- 
bered a  man  who'd  been  to  our  place  two  or  three  years  ago  ask- 
ing for  old  Judge  Marbury,  who's  dead  and  gone  ten  years.  He 
had  asked  me  about  the  judge,  and  I'd  sent  him  to  the  judge's 
son,  who's  practising  law  now  in  his  dad's  place.  I  was  certain  it  was 
the  same  man,  so  I  ups  and  takes  the  picture  over  to  young  Boyd 
Marbury — he's  only  twenty-five  now.  Boon's  I  showed  it  to  him 
he  says:  "Yes,  sir;  I  knew  him."  And  that's  all  I  could  get  out 
of  him  for  a  while.  But  Boyd  likes  me,  and  bimeby  he  tells  me 
this — seeing  as  how  a  regular  detective  wants  the  information, 
only  he  made  me  swear  that  I  wouldn't  tell  nobody  else.  The  man 
came  here  to  ask  about  some  property,  says  he,  that  he  understood 
that  Cranshaw  Belding  (who  was  hung  for  murder  thirty  years 
ago)  had  left  behind  him.  Said  he  was  distant  kin  to  Belding. 
He  got  mad  when  he  found  that  it  had  all  been  sold  for  taxes 
years  ago,  and  done  some  cussing.  Then  he  went  away  without 
paying  young  Boyd  a  cent.  Well,  sir,  Boyd  and  me  we  put  our 
heads  together,  and  we  (that  is,  I  did)  remembered  that  Cran 
Belding  had  a  son  that  was  three  or  four  years  old  when  he  was 
hung,  that  he  said  he'd  murdered  at  the  same  time  he  killed  the 
mother.  And  then  I  remembered  a  kind  of  a  jerky  way  that  the 
stranger  had  had  about  him  that  was  a  whole  lot  like  what  I'd 
seen  Cran  Belding  do  lots  of  times.  So,  I  says  to  myself,  I'll 
bet  a  ceoky  that  Cran  didn't  kill  his  boy,  and  that  the  chap  that 
came  here  was  that  boy  growed  up. 

That's  all  I  know,  Mr.  Rushton,  and  it  ain't  much.  You  can 
take  it  for  what  it's  worth,  if  it's  worth  anything  at  all.  He 
don't  look  like  Cran  did,  but  he  acts  like  him,  and  he's  got  a  way 
of  jerking  his  head  that's  like  him — and  I  wouldn't  wonder  a 
mite  if  it  was  him — that  is,  if  the  man  whose  picture  you  sent  to 
me  ain't  Cran  Belding's  boy  growed  up. 

Yours  truly, 

JASPER  D.   SEEI.OVBR, 

Town  Constable. 


Although  Carruthers  read  the  letter  through  almost 
without  expression,  his  remarkable  eyes  were  all  aglow 
when  he  lifted  them  to  encounter  Bing  Harvard's  gaze. 
When  he  spoke  it  was  in  the  same  quiet  tone  that  he 
had  used  before,  indicative  of  nothing. 

"Mr.  Rushton  has  done  me  a  great  service,'*  he  said ; 
"he  has  done  the  department  that  I  serve  a  greater 
one.  Cranshaw  Belding,  addressed  as  'C.  B.'  by  his  in- 
timates, is  the  name  of  the  man  I  want,  and  without 
doubt  Conrad  Belknap — the  initials  are  the  same,  you 
observe — is  the  man." 


BRAINARD,  OF  THE  SECRET  SERVICE       243 

"I  have  heard  him  called  C.  B.,"  Bing  said,  "on  one 
occasion." 

"That  gives  us  added  assurance.  Julius  overheard 
the  name  Belding  at  the  old  mill.  Belknap's  informa- 
tion in  regard  to  my  coming  here  was  accurate;  he 
proved  that  to  me  to-night  at  the  boat-house,  when  he 
claimed  to  have  met  me  before,  without  the  scar,  and 
under  the  name  of  Brainard.  His  cheek  and  assur- 
ance are  phenomenal.  He  is  a  cool  and  capable 
scoundrel.  I  am  not  at  liberty  at  the  moment  to  tell 
exactly  why  Uncle  Sam  wants  him,  and  has  wanted  him 
for  some  time.  But,  with  the  information  now  at  hand, 
I  shall  not  hesitate  to  arrest  him  as  soon  as  he  can 
be  found." 

"Can  you  tell  me  why,  in  the  devil's  name,  he  came 
to  Myquest?"  Harvard  asked. 

"I  can  only  guess  as  to  that,  Mr.  Harvard,  and  this 
is  too  serious  a  matter  to  guess  about.  I  will  tell  you 
all  this:  if  he  did  not  leave  Myquest  till  after  eleven 
o'clock,  he  did  not  go  far.  I  am  not  alone  on  this 
case." 

When  the  conference  and  exchange  of  opinions  came 
to  an  end,  Carruthers  signified  his  intention  of  ac- 
companying Rushton  to  his  car.  Harvard  and  Clancy 
at  once  sought  their  respective  beds. 

"I  was  wonderin',"  Rushton  said  to  his  companion  as 
soon  as  they  were  in  the  open,  "if  you  was  figurin'  on 
tellin'  me  anything  more  about  that  guy.  I  could  see 
that  you  wasn't  ready  to  give  it  all  up  to  Bing  Har- 
vard and  Tom  Clancy — but  me !  That's  different,  ain't 
it?" 

"Yes,  Rushton.  That  is  why  I  came  outside  with 
you.  This  Cranshaw  Belding  (I  have  personally 
known  that  Belknap  is  Belding,  for  a  long  time ;  and 
an  acquaintance  of  mine  has  also  known  it,  although 


244  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

neither  of  us  were  in  a  position  to  prove  it)  has  a 
long  criminal  record,  and  a  bad  one.  It  began  when 
he  was  a  mere  boy,  and  he  is  now,  according  to  my  best 
information,  thirty-four  years  old.  He  was  born  with 
brains;  he  is  superlatively  intelligent,  and  he  has  cour- 
age. I  don't  think  that  he  knows  what  physical  fear 
is ;  nor  mental  fear,  either,  for  that  matter.  He  has 
good  blood  in  him,  too — the  best  that  Kentucky  boasts, 
on  both  sides  of  his  ancestry.  But  he  is  unmoral;  a 
man  who  apparently  was  born  without  morals.  The 
combination  creates  a  dangerous  character  to  be  at 
large.  He  is  utterly  unscrupulous,  save  in  one  par- 
ticular, and  that  one  to  which  I  refer  is  remarkable 
because  it  is  the  one  scruple  that  one  would  never  ex- 
pect in  a  man  of  his  characteristics." 

"Say,  what  is  it — that  thing  that  you're  talkin' 
about?"  Rushton  asked. 

"He  respects,  and  is  known  to  be  fastidious  in  his  re- 
gard, for  women.  It  is  an  anomaly  in  his  general  char- 
acter, inherited,  probably,  from  his  mother's  family. 
At  all  events,  he  has  it,  as  has  been  proved  by  his 
acts,  many  times,  to  my  personal  information  and  be- 
lief." 

Rushton  grunted.  It  was  plain  that  he  received  that 
statement  with  a  large  grain  of  salt;  but  the  only  re- 
sponse he  made  was  to  put  another  question. 

"Do  you  mind  tellin'  me  what  he's  wanted  for?  Why 
your  department  is  after  him?"  he  asked. 

"Not  at  all.  I  have  told  you  that  his  criminal 
record  began  when  he  was  a  boy.  It  is,  in  fact,  nearly 
as  old  as  he  is.  He  was  brought  up,  and  trained,  al- 
most from  babyhood,  in  the  family  of  a  man  who  was 
probably  the  greatest,  shrewdest,  keenest,  and  ablest 
criminal  who  ever  defied  the  government  authorities — 
the  most  expert  bond-forger,  bill-forger,  and  all-around 


BRAIXARD,  OF  THE  SECRET  SERVICE       245 

counterfeiter  of  bond-plates,  bill-plates,  and  of  all  sorts 
of  negotiable  securities,  that  the  world  has  ever 
known." 

"Say,  Brainard,  you  don't  happen  to  mean  old 
Brock " 

"Yes.  He  is  the  man  I  refer  to.  He  has  been  dead 
some  years,  now;  but " 

"Eight  or  ten,"  Rushton  interpolated.  "Well,  what 
do  you  know  about  that !" 

"The  old  man,"  Carruthers  continued,  "found  in 
the  young  one,  an  apt  pupil,  a  venturesome  one,  and  a 
competent  successor.  After  the  death  of  the  old  man 
the  government  believed  that  all  of  the  counterfeit 
plates  with  which  he  had  carried  on  his  business  had 
been  rounded  up  and  accounted  for ;  but  ever  since 
then,  at  intervals — and  in  widely  separated  localities 
— a  counterfeited  bond,  or  stock  certificate,  or  a  bill, 
or  something  of  that  character,  has  made  its  appear- 
ance. So,  we  have  known,  without  being  able  to  prove 
it,  that  young  Belding  has  been  carrying  on  the  work 
of  his  teacher. 

"I  am  giving  you  only  a  bare  outline  of  things, 
Rushton,  and  there  are  two  more  matters  connected 
with  them  which  I  want  you  to  take  into  consideration. 
The  first  one  is  (I  am  speaking  officially  now,  not  per- 
sonally, please  understand  that)  that  the  name  Cran- 
shaw  Belding  has  always  been  regarded  by  the  de- 
partment as  a  sort  of  a  myth.  It  was  known  that 
there  was  said  to  be  such  a  person,  or  actu- 
ally was  one,  but  no  definite  description  of  him 
could  be  obtained.  There  were  a  dozen  descriptions  of 
him,  but  each  one  was  totally  different  from  any  of 
the  others,  and  not  one  of  them  could  be  relied  upon  as 
authentic.  The  other  matter  to  which  I  referred  just 
now,  the  second  one.  is  this.  Nearly  two  years  ago  an 


246  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

operative  of  the  department  sent  in  a  report  to  the 
chief  in  which  he  stated  with  emphasis  that  he  had 
succeeded  in  trailing  Belding;  that  he  knew  him,  and 
was  prepared  to  prove  identity;  that  he  was  going 
after  his  man  as  soon  as  he  finished  the  report  he 
was  writing;  that  he  was  positive  that  he  would  'get' 
him,  and  also  many  of  the  plates  that  were  wanted; 
and  that  he  would  have  proof  sufficient  the  following 
day  to  send  Belding  away — well,  for  keeps.  That 
night,  Rushton,  two  men  were  killed.  One  of  them  was 
the  operative  in  question  (whose  name  does  not  con- 
cern us  just  now).  The  other  one  was  a  youngish 
man  whose  pockets  contained  what  appeared  to  be 
unmistakable  proofs  that  he  was  Cranshaw  Belding. 
The  two  had  killed  one  another  when  the  operative 
went  to  arrest  his  man. 

"It  so  happened  that  I,  personally,  was  in  a  position 
to  know  that  the  dead  man  was  not  Belding;  but 
I  could  not  prove  it.  Also,  it  was  a  long  and  a  dif- 
ficult task  to  convince  the  department  that  I  was 
right.  My  source  of  information  was  such  that  I  could 
not  use  it — nor  could  I  reveal  all  of  the  facts  about 
it  that  I  did  know,  because  my  informant  was  a  per- 
son whose  name  must  not  be  mentioned,  and  whose 
testimony,  even  if  the  name  should  be  revealed,  would 
not  be  regarded  by  one  of  our  judges  as  sufficient 
proof.  The  things  that  I  did  know — which  I  thor- 
oughly believed  that  I  knew — were  that  the  real  Beld- 
ing had,  for  several  years,  cloaked  his  identity  behind 
that  of  the  dead  man  who  had  posed  for  him  as  Belding, 
and  that  the  real  Belding  had  deliberately  supplied  the 
operative  who  was  killed  with  the  information  that  had 
taken  him  to  his  death.  It  probably  was  not  within 
his  plans  that  his  own  impersonator  should  lose  his 
life,  too;  but  it  is  reasonably  certain  that  he  coldly 


BRAINARD,  OF  THE  SECRET  SERVICE       247 

planned  the  killing  of  the  operative.  So,  you  see,  he 
is  actually  responsible,  and  therefore  guilty,  of  both 
of  those  killings. 

"That,  Mr.  Rushton,  is  all  that  I  need  to  tell  to 
you  now." 

"Uhuh,"  Rushton  rejoined.  Then  he  added:  "You 
remarked  while  we  were  all  chinning  together  in  Har- 
vard's room,  that  if  Belknap  didn't  make  his  getaway 
before  'leven  o'clock,  he  wouldn't  get  very  far,  because 
you  are  not  alone  on  this  case.  I'd  kinda  like  to  know 
just  what  you  meant  by  that." 

"When  I  came  to  Myquest,  on  Belknap's  trail — be- 
ing convinced  that  he  is  the  real  fielding — I  was  sure 
in  my  own  mind  that  he  had  reasons  for  being  here 
which  were  not  connected  with  his  past  record;  and  I 
had  my  own  reasons  for  determining  that  he  must  not, 
and  should  not  escape  me  this  time.  So  I  asked  that 
certain  of  our  men,  whom  I  named,  be  assigned  to  as- 
sist me.  There  are  several  of  them  in  this  neighbor- 
hood. You  can  accept  it  as  a  fact  that  Belknap  will 
not  be  able  to  get  past  them,  day  or  night,  by  train, 
by  automobile,  on  foot,  or  by  any  other  means.  He 
would  be  seen  and  recognized,  and  would  be  stopped 
before  he  could  go  very  much  farther." 

"Suppose  he  does  get  through,  just  the  same?" 

"He  won't.     He  can't." 

"All  the  same,  suppose  that  when  to-morrow  comes, 
he's  still  missin',  and  that  none  of  your  outfit  has 
pinched  him.  What  will  you  think  about  that?" 

"I  won't  think  about  it;  I  will  know." 

"What  '11  you  know?" 

"I'll  know  that  while  he  has  been  here  he  has  ar- 
ranged a  temporary  getaway  and  hiding  place  within 
the  boundaries  of  Myquest — say  at  the  old  mill  that 
Julius  told  about,  or  in  an  outbuilding,  or  in  the  ravine 


248  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

below  the  lake,  or  something  of  the  sort — to  which  he 
has  fled,  and  where  he  will  stay  in  hiding  as  long  as 
he  pleases,  or  until  he  is  rooted  out.  And,  Mr.  Rush- 
ton,  believe  me,  no  matter  where  that  hiding  place  is,  or 
how  skillfully  he  has  arranged  it,  he  will  be  rooted  out 
before  long." 

"Say,  has  it  occurred  to  you  that  maybe  somebody 
might  help  him  to  hide,  eh?  He.  might  have  a  con- 
federate among  the  help,  in  the  house,  or  outside  of  it. 
Guys  like  him  don't  usually  work  alone." 

"He  will  be  found,  Rushton,  never  fear,"  was  the 
confident  reply. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

BELKNAP'S    DILEMMA 

IN  the  meantime  the  object  of  so  much  interest  had 
been  undergoing — rather  than  enjoying,  be  it  said 
— quite  a  variety  of  mental  gymnastics. 

Belknap,  for  once  in  his  venturesome  life,  had  had 
"one  put  over  on  him." 

He  was  loath  to  admit  the  fact,  even  to  himself,  at 
first ;  but  before  he  had  passed  an  hour  in  examining 
his  surroundings  in  the  Nest,  and  in  some  rather  force- 
ful thinking,  he  was  compelled  to  recognize  the  bald 
fact  of  it. 

Katherine's  manner  of  leaving  him — the  suddenness 
of  her  going — the  swinging  open  of  the  door  without 
visible  act  on  her  part  as  she  approached  it — the  quick 
and  noiseless  closing  of  it  after  she  passed  the  thres- 
hold— and  the  very  apparent  fact  that  he  would  not  be 
able  to  open  it  in  her  absence,  brought  plainly  home 
to  his  understanding  the  fact  that  he  was  virtually  a 
prisoner. 

He  had  walked  deliberately,  and  with  wide-open  eyes, 
into  a  trap  that  she  had  prepared  for  him — a  trap 
that  had  closed  around  him  as  solidly  as  ever  a  wire 
cage  has  snapped  shut  upon  an  unsuspecting  rodent. 

A  very  slight  examination  convinced  Belknap  that 
he  could  not  get  outside  of  the  Swiss  chalet  until  the 
chatelaine  of  it  elected  to  let  him  out. 

Who  ever  heard  of  a  house  that  one  could  not  get 
out  of?  Not  he,  certainly. 

249 


250  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Even  prisons,  with  their  locks  and  bars  and  guards 
and  surrounding  walls,  were  negotiable  of  ttimes,  by  the 
wiser  ones  among  the  desperate  men  who  were  confined 
in  them. 

He  very  quickly  discovered  that  there  was  no  way 
out,  unless,  in  the  event  of  his  applying  his  brains  to 
the  problem,  he  had  the  intelligence  to  find  some  of 
those  secret  buttons  and  appliances  which  supplied  the 
open-sesame  for  doors  and  windows,  and  other  things. 

And  Belknap  had  no  notion  of  passively  submitting 
to  imprisonment. 

"I  will  have  it  out  wifh  her  the  first  time  she  comes  to 
see  me,"  he  told  himself  with  one  of  his  wolfish  smiles ; 
but  even  as  he  made  the  remark  aloud,  the  smile 
changed  into  a  half-sheepish  grin,  for  he  remembered 
how  perfectly  self-assurecl  she  had  been;  how  secure 
she  had  seemed  from  any  possible  attack;  how  totally 
without  fear  her  attitude  had  been. 

But  this — the  condition  of  his  surroundings — was 
not  at  all  what  he  had  anticipated  when  he  had  de- 
manded that  she  should  hide  him. 

He  had  expected  to  be  located  so  that  he  could  give 
his  orders  to  Katherine  as  he  pleased — and  what  he 
pleased — and  expect  her  to  fulfill  them ;  instead,  he  was 
as  thoroughly  a  helpless  prisoner  as  if  he  were  al- 
ready a  convict  in  solitary  confinement. 

She  could  visit  him  when  she  pleased,  or  not  at  all  if 
she  preferred. 

He  could  not  wait  for  her  at  the  door  and  seize  upon 
her  when  she  entered ;  indeed,  she  had  deftly  warned 
him  against  undertaking  that  very  thing — and  there 
was  not  the  slightest  doubt  left  in  Belknap's  mind  that 
there  existed  many  other  mechanical  protectors  around 
and  about  him,  over  his  head  and  under  his  feet,  to 
which  she  would  have  recourse  if  he  "got  fresh." 


BELKNAP'S  DILEMMA  251 

He  had  seen  one  opening  in  the  floor  into  which  he 
might  have  been  tumbled  headlong,  easily,  had  she  so 
willed ;  he  had  been  told,  and  did  not  doubt,  that  there 
was  another  one  at  the  entrance  door ;  and  he  began  to 
think  that  they  might  be  anywhere,  and  that  the 
beautiful  owner  of  the  Swiss  chalet  could,  with  the  lift- 
ing of  an  eyelash,  drop  him  through  the  floor  at  almost 
any  spot,  or  herself  disappear  before  his  eyes  at  will. 

"What  a  woman !  By  Jove,  what  a  woman !"  he  ex- 
claimed aloud,  and  with  undoubted  admiration  and  re- 
spect. "She  has  got  me  dead  to  rights — literally  where 
I  can't  help  myself,  unless — unless  I've  got  the  brains 
to  study  out  and  uncover  some  of  secrets  of  this  house 
of  mysteries ;  and,  by  Jove,  I  think  I  have  the  wit  to 
do  that  very  thing.  Yes,  I  believe  I  have  the  brains 
to  do  that.  Anyhow" — and  he  again  smiled  his  un- 
doubted admiration  of  the  woman  who  had  bested  him 
— "she's  got  me  where  I  am  utterly  helpless  to  carry 
into  execution  any  of  the  threats  I  have  made.  I 
can't  tell  her  father  or  mother  about  Roderick,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  I  can't  get  to  them  to  tell  them ; 
I  can't  cop  any  more  coin  at  cards;  but,  more  than 
all,  I  can't  get  hold  of  the  thing  that  I  came  here  after, 
unless  I  can  induce  her  to  let  me  loose  some  night 
long  enough  to  get  it.  I  wonder  if  she  could  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  do  that?  I  wonder.  I  wonder! 

"Lady  Kate  would  be  surprised  if  it  occurred  to  her 
that  my  chief  reason  in  asking  her  to  hide  me  was  to 
provide  the  opportunity,  while  I  am  supposed  to  be 
miles  away,  to  get  my  fingers  onto  that  priceless  gem ; 
and  now,  by  jingo,  she  has  got  me  fixed  so  that  I 
can't  do  it. 

"She  would  be  still  more  surprised  if  she  knew  that 
I  don't  even  know  that  precious  brother  of  hers  by 
sight,  and  that  I  could  no  more  send  him  to  prison  than 


252  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

I  could  send  her  to  one.  I  could  let  the  authorities 
know  that  he  is  alive,  and  I  could  give  a  hint  that 

would  lead  to  his  trail;  but Oh,  well,  there  is 

one  thing  that  I  could  do  in  that  line,  if  I  chose;  and 
sometimes  I  have  thought  that  I  would  do  it:  I 
could  direct  them  to  Roberta.  She  knows,  confound 
her!  She  knows  who  Roderick  Maxwilton  is,  where 
he  lives,  what  name  he  uses,  and  how  he  earns  his 
bread  and  salt.  But  I  could  never  make  her  tell  me, 
and  I  doubt  if  all  the  authorities  in  existence  could 
force  her  to  tell  them.  Roberta  is — Roberta.'* 

Katherine,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  left  a  few 
of  the  electric  lights  switched  on  so  that  he  could  make 
use  of  them;  there  was  a  reading  light  near  one  of  the 
easy  chairs,  and  there  were  others  quite  sufficient  for 
his  needs ;  but  all  of  them  combined  were  far  from  pro- 
viding what  one  might  define  as  illumination. 

Having,  in  a  sense,  thought  himself  out  in  conjectur- 
ing, Belknap  devoted  nearly  two  hours  to  careful 
search  for  concealed  buttons  and  springs,  for  that  one 
beneath  the  little  Japanese  idol  on  the  shelf  had  given 
him  an  idea. 

He  searched  with  great  care  and  method,  but  after 
the  two  hours  of  utterly  fruitless  effort,  he  desisted. 

"I'll  sleep  on  it,"  he  thought  at  last.  "When  I 
wake  up  I'll  begin  where  I  leave  off  now." 

Katherine,  when  she  got  to  her  room  that  night,  was 
quite  content.  She  was  smiling  while  she  undressed 
and  went  to  bed. 

She  knew — none  better — that  she  had  "put  one 
over"  on  Belknap;  and  she  had  already  decided  that 
she  would  give  him  a  continuous  forty-eight  hours  for 
solitary  meditation  before  she  would  visit  him. 

More  than  that,  she  had  determined  to  keep  him 
exactly  where  he  was  until  he  was  ready  and  willing 


BELKNAP'S  DILEMMA  253 

to  reveal  to  her  the  whole  plot  that  he  had  in  mind 
when  he  came  to  Myquest — exactly  what  his  real  rea- 
sons were  for  visiting  Myquest  at  all — and  until  he 
told  her  all  that  he  knew  about  Roderick. 

She  dropped  asleep,  still  smiling. 

The  following  morning,  at  midforenoon,  Harvard, 
who  had  been  seeking  Senorita  Cervantez,  came  upon 
her  unexpectedly  where  she  was  seated  with  some  em- 
broidery, in  the  rose  bower — for  Harvard  had  one 
little  incident  up  his  sleeve  which  he  had  not  talked 
about  at  last  night's  conference. 

"Senorita,"  he  said,  "I  have  here  something  that  I 
want  to  ask  you  to  explain ;  a  matter  of  eighteen  writ- 
ten words  which  I  believe  you  can  explain.  I  saw  you 
drop  this  message  to  Mr.  Belknap  from  your  balcony 
the  other  night.  It  reads :  'When  every  arm  resists  en- 
tirely, we  are  then  concerned  how  effort,  done  before 
endeavor,  will  award  rebellion's  end.'  It  read  like  a 
poor  quotation,  or  like  utter  nonsense,  until  it  occurred 
to  me  that  it  might  be  an  acrostic.  When  I  thought  of 
that,  I  read  the  first  letter  of  each  word,  and  put  them 
together.  I  found :  'We  are  watched.  Beware.'  Will 
you,  senorita,  be  good  enough  to  explain?" 

The  senorita  started  to  her  feet  when  Harvard  be- 
gan to  speak  to  her. 

It  was  plain  in  his  manner  of  address  that  he  was 
gravely  serious — and  then  she  saw  and  recognized  the 
slip  of  paper  that  he  held  in  his  hand. 

Instantly  she  realized  two  things;  that  it  had  been 
the  Night  Wind  who  had  attacked  Belknap  under  the 
tree ;  and  that  he  had  succeeded  in  deciphering  the  mes- 
sage that  she  had  dropped  which  he  had  taken  from 
the  man  for  whom  it  had  been  intended. 

But  Roberta  was,  nevertheless,  not  at  all  afraid. 

She  had  prepared  herself  for  just  such  an  emergency, 


254  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

because  she  had  more  than  half  believed  that  it  would 
happen ;  and  if  the  truth  be  known,  she  was,  Jeep  down 
inside  of  her,  glad  that  it  had  happened. 

Before  she  could  reply  to  him — if,  indeed,  she  in- 
tended to  make  reply,  for  she  hesitated  while  she  asked 
herself  if  she  should  resort  to  her  tablet,  or  should  ad- 
mit by  word  of  mouth  that  she  was  not  without  a  voice 
— he  added: 

"I  should  say,  perhaps,  that  I  doubt  your  inability 
to  use  your  voice.  I  heard  you,  before  you  dropped  this 
message,  call  out  to  the  person  for  whom  it  was  intended 
— although  you  did  make  use  of  a  sibilant  whisper.  But 
it  was  sufficiently  penetrating.  I  heard  you  call  two 
letters.  I  will  pronounce  them ;  and  when  I  have  done 
that,  and  while  you  are  explaining  things,  I  wish  you 
also  to  inform  me  what  other  name  the  two  letters 
stand  for  besides  Conrad  Belknap.  They  were  'S-e-e 
B-e-e!'» 

"Yes,  Mr.  Harvard,"  she  answered  at  once,  but  in 
a  tone  so  low  that  it  was  almost  a  whisper,  "I  have  a 
voice,  and  I  can  use  it.  I  have  deceived  everybody.  I 
want  to  explain.  I  had  brought  myself  nearly  to  the 
point  of  doing  so  before  you  spoke  just  now." 

"What  wild  and  vicious  plot  is  being  concocted  here 
in  my  house  under  my  nose?"  he  demanded  sharply. 

"Wait,  please,"  she  answered,  still  in  that  nearly  in- 
audible tone. 

"Why  wait,  senorita?" 

"Because  the  things  that  I  have  to  tell  you  cannot 
be  told  in  a  moment.  Because  there  is  much  that  I 
should  say  in  order  to  make  you  thoroughly  under- 
stand; and  I  do  not  think  that  this  is  just  the  right 
place  to  say  it." 

"Perhaps  not,"  he  admitted. 

"Can  we  not  seek  a  place  where  we  will  be  undis- 


BELKNAP'S  DILEMMA  255 

turbed — where  we  can  talk  without  the  fear  of  inter- 
ruption ?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "there  is  the  lake.  Come  with 
me.  I  will  row  you  out  to  the  middle  of  it.  You  can 
talk  there." 

"No,"  she  said,  and  shook  her  shapely  head.  "We 
would  be  seen,  and  an  observer  would  know  that  I  was 
talking.  I  ride  well,  and  I  have  not  been  in  the  saddle 
since  I  came  here.  Can  we  not  ride?  We  would 
be  alone  in  that  way." 

Harvard  made  still  another  suggestion,  however. 

"If  you  will  walk  slowly  to  the  gate  at  the  lodge," 
he  said,  "I  will  pass  there  soon  in  one  of  the  roadsters. 
I  will  invite  you  to  go  with  me.  Then  we  can  talk." 

She  nodded,  murmured  a  "Very  good,  Mr.  Harvard," 
and  started  away. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  picked  her  up  at  the  lodge 
gate,  and  they  drove  away  side  by  side. 

Two  small  incidents  happened  as  they  did  so:  one 
was  that  Roberta,  believing  that  nobody  was  near, 
spoke  to  Harvard  in  her  natural  voice  as  she  climbed 
into  the  seat  beside  him ;  the  other  one  was  that 
Katherine,  who  had  entered  the  unused  lodge  for  some 
reason  a  few  moments  earlier,  heard  the  car  and  her 
husband's  voice,  and  went  quickly  toward  the  door  to 
inquire  where  he  was  bound.  She  stepped  into  the  open 
doorway  just  as  Roberta  was  in  the  act  of  getting  into 
the  car,  and  at  the  very  instant  when  she  used  her 
sweetly  melodious  voice  in  addressing  Bing. 

Katherine  stepped  swiftly  back  again  out  of  sight. 

Utter  amazement  is  the  only  adequate  manner  in 
which  to  describe  her  sensations;  not  because  Roberta 
happened  to  be  at  the  lodge  gate  when  Harvard  was 
driving  out,  and  that  he  should  ask  her  to  ride  with 
him,  but  that  Roberta  should  speak  to  him  in  a  per- 


256          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

fectly  natural  manner,  inducing  no  surprise  on  his 
part  that  she  used  her  voice  (she  who  was  supposed  to 
be  without  voice)  but  precisely  as  if  he  had  known  from 
the  beginning  of  things  that  she  could  talk. 

Katherine  walked  very  slowly  on  her  return  to  the 
house.    She  had  much  to  think  about. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

WHAT    ROBERTA    HAD    TO    TELL 

HARVARD  did  not  speak  again  for  some  time  after 
Roberta  was  seated  beside  him.  He  drove  the  car  in 
silence,  guiding  it,  at  the  first  opportunity,  out  of  the 
main  highway  into  less  frequented  thoroughfares. 
After  a  time  he  slowed  down  until  they  made  less  than 
ten  miles  an  hour. 

"Mr.  Harvard,"  Roberta  began,  "there  is  so  much 
that  I  must  tell  to  you,  and  so  much  also  that  I  should 
leave  unsaid  for  others  to  inform  you  about,  that  I 
shall  ask  you  to  hear  me  through  to  the  end  of  what 
I  have  to  say,  with  as  little  interruption  as  is  possible." 

"I  will  interrupt  you,  senorita,"  he  replied,  "only 
when  a  question  that  I  regard  as  important  seems  nec- 
essary." 

"In  that  case,"  she  said,  "I  will  begin  by  making 
a  statement  that  will  amaze  you,  perhaps,  more  than 
anything  else  I  will  have  to  say." 

"The  entire  situation  is  sufficiently  amazing,"  he  re- 
plied. "But  what  is  the  statement  you  refer  to?" 

"This :  the  man  whom  you  know  as  Conrad  Belknap 
is  my  husband.  I  have  been  his  wife  ten  years.  I  was 
married  to  him  when  I  was  seventeen.  When  I  was 
nineteen — somewhat  less  than  two  years  after  our  mar- 
riage— I  left  him,  and  hid  myself  away  where  I  hoped 
he  would  never  find  me.  It  was  not  until  nearly  five 
years  after  that  when  he  did  find  me.  I  was  in  the  far 
West — in  Idaho — teaching  school;  and  I  had  secured 

257 


258  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

a  divorce  from  him  three  years  before  he  discovered 
me." 

"Then  you  are  not  his  wife — unless  you  remarried. 
Did  you?" 

"No.  I  used  the  present  tense  in  referring  to  the 
subject  for  the  sake  of  directness  and  to  be  explicit. 
I  have  never  been  his  wife  since  I  left  him  more  than 
eight  years  ago,  but  I  have  been  more  or  less  closely 
associated  with  him  and  his  evil  ways  ever  since  he  dis- 
covered me  in  Idaho  between  three  and  four  years 
ago.  He  has  compelled  that — has  forced  me  to  do 
what  I  have  done ;  to  seem  to  condone  his  criminalities ; 
to  associate  with  crooks  and  criminals;  to  sometimes 
go  the  length  of  actual  participation  in  his  crookedness 
(or  of  seeming  to  do  so) — he  has  compelled  that  much 
of  complacence  on  my  part  by  holding  over  me  a 
threat  which,  until  now,  I  have  not  had  the  courage  to 
defy." 

"One  moment,  please.     Why  'until  now'?" 

"I  will  reply  to  that  question  ambiguously,  and  ex- 
plain more  fully  when  I  get  to  it.  Something  hap- 
pened Saturday  night  which  was  established  to  my 
satisfaction  on  Sunday,  and  which  I  became  positively 
assured  of  only  last  night,  that  has  made  it  both  pos- 
sible and  logical  for  me  to  defy  the  man  you  know  as 
Conrad  Belknap." 

"I  see.  You  will  explain  that  point  later,  you  say. 
But  you  have  twice  used  the  expression,  'the  man  I 
know  as  Belknap.'  Am  I  to  understand  that  the  per- 
son's right  name  is  not  Conrad  Belknap?'' 

"Yes.     His  name  is " 

"Wait!    Is  it  Cranshaw  Belding?" 

"What?     You  know?"  Roberta  exclaimed. 

"Yes.     I  know,"  Harvard  returned  quietly. 

"While  I  was  in  Idaho,"  Roberta  continued  slowly, 


WHAT  ROBERTA  HAD  TO  TELL        259 

after  a  moment's  contemplation  of  Harvard's  face,  "I 
met,  and  learned  to  love,  and  was  loved,  by  an- 
other man.  I  had  already  secured  my  divorce,  so 
there  was  no  obstacle  of  that  character  to  our 
marriage.  But,  there  were  two  obstacles — serious 
ones,  both — nevertheless.  One  of  them  was  occasioned 
by  his  point  of  view;  the  other  one  was  by  my  own. 
He  was  living  under  a  cloud,  in  disguise,  and 
was  known  by  a  name  that  was  not  his  own; 
and  there  were  many  reasons  beside  the  actual 
cloud  to  which  I  have  referred  why  he  should  not  re- 
sume his  own  name  and  seek  to  prove — as  he  believed  he 
could  do — his  innocence  of  the  act  which  had  been 
charged  to  him.  He  would  not  ask  me  to  be  his  wife 
until  he  could  stand  clear  before  the  world,  clothed  in 
his  right  name.  But,  Mr.  Harvard,  even  so,  I  would 
have  prevailed  upon  him,  and  we  would  have  fought 
out  our  battles  side  by  side  but  for  the  one  great  and 
insurmountable  objection  that  /  had. 

"It  was  this :  I  knew  that  if  Cranshaw  fielding  should 
find  me,  and  know  that  I  had  married  another  man,  he 
would  kill  that  other  man,  or  have  him  murdered  with- 
out compunction.  I  knew  Cranshaw  fielding  better  than 
he  knew  himself.  I  knew  that  my  marriage  to  another 
would  be  the  death-warrant  of  that  other.  And  now, 
Mr.  Harvard,  I  have  another  surprise  for  you.  The 
man  whom  I  would  have  married  in  Idaho  bore  the 
name  (not  his  family  name,  remember)  of  Bruce  Brain- 
ard." 

"Bruce  Brainard?  Carruthers?  The  Se "  He 

stopped. 

"Yes,"  Roberta  calmly  replied.  "The  secret  ser- 
vice operative  who  is  called  Bruce  Brainard,  whom  you 
have  received  in  your  home  at  the  solicitation  of  your 
friend,  Morton  Saulsbury,  under  the  name  of  Daniel 


260  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Carruthers,  and  whose  real  identity  I  know  as  well  as 
I  know  yours,  is  the  man  I  love,  and  who  loves  me;  is 
the  man  who  has  been  wrongly  charged,  in  the  past, 
with  a  crime  with  which  he  had  nothing  to  do;  is  the 
man  whose  battles  I  have  helped  to  fight,  and  who  has 
helped  me  to  fight  mine;  is  the  man  of  all  others  whom 
I  have  ever  known  who  is  the  soul  of  honor  and  upright 
manhood." 

Harvard  drove  on  in  silence  for  a  time.     Presently: 

"Have  I  permission  to  mention  you  to  him?"  Bing 
asked. 

"Yes.    I  want  you  to  do  so,  please." 

"Did  you  know  that  he  was  coming  to  Myquest  be- 
fore he  actually  appeared?" 

"He  told  me  Saturday  night  that  Mr.  Saulsbury 
would  bring  him  to  call  Sunday  to  ask  you  to  receive 
him  the  following  day,  under  another  name,  as  a  guest. 
He  also  told  me  that  his  chief  was  to  arrive  at  Mr. 
Saulsbury's  home  Sunday  night  at  twelve  o'clock,  and 
that  he  had  decided  to  tell  the  entire  story  of  his  life 
to  his  chief,  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Saulsbury.  Last 
night  I  met  him  again  by  appointment  after  midnight. 
He  told  me  then  that  his  chief  had  merely  chuckled 
when  he  heard  Mr.  Brainard's  story,  and  had  replied: 
*Why,  Brainy' — that  is  what  he  is  called  by  his  inti- 
mates in  the  service — 'I  have  known  the  truth  about 
those  matters  two  years;  ever  since  six  months  after 
you  became  one  of  us,  in  fact.  It  is  part  of  my  duty 
to  know,  thoroughly,  the  men  who  work  for  me.  The 
man  who  was  guilty  of  the  things  you  were  accused  of 
has  been  in  the  federal  prison  at  Atlanta  more  than  a 
year.  You  are  like  some  doctors  that  I  have  heard 
about — entirely  efficient  when  another  is  ill,  but  ab- 
solutely inefficient  when  they  get  sick  themselves. 
You  aren't  worth  your  salt  when  it  comes  to  doctoring 


WHAT  ROBERTA  HAD  TO  TELL        261 

yourself.*  Then  he  added :  *I  have  not  mentioned  this 
to  you  because  I  preferred  to  let  you  tell  me  about  it 
yourself  in  your  own  good  time  after  you  had  screwed 
up  the  necessary  moral  courage  to  do  it.' ' 

"Senorita — I  will  continue  to  address  you  so — are 
you  willing  to  tell  me  who  Bruce  Brainard  really  is?" 

"No,  please.  That  is  one  of  the  subjects  that  I 
referred  to  in  the  beginning  when  I  told  you  that 
there  are  things  which  I  must  leave  unsaid,  for  others 
to  inform  you  about." 

"Brainard  himself,  or  others?" 

"Brainard  himself  and  others." 

"Why  did  you  pretend  to  be  voiceless  when  you 
came  to  Myquest?" 

"Because  I  had  spoken  with  Mrs.  Harvard  over  the 
telephone,  and  did  not  know  until  she  greeted  me  that 
day  that  she  was  the  person  with  whom  I  had  talked." 

"Wait.  Was  your  talk  with  her  that  you  refer  to 
in  the  middle  of  the  night?" 

"Yes.  Before  I  was  summoned  to  come  to  you  as  a 
pianiste." 

"Well,  well,"  Harvard  said,  under  his  breath,  recall- 
ing the  disturbance  he  had  felt  because  of  his  knowledge 
that  Katherine  had  used  the  telephone  one  midnight 
and  another  night.  "You  talked  with  her  more  than 
once,  didn't  you?" 

"Twice;  both  times  after  twelve  at  night." 

"Correct.     I'm  glad  you  told  me  that." 

"C.  B.  planned  my  coming  to  Myquest,"  she  said. 
"I  did  not  want  to  come — I  had  my  own  reasons  for 
not  wanting  to  do  so — but  he  made  me  do  it." 

"He  has  made  a  catspaw  of  you." 

"Literally  that,  Mr.  Harvard." 

"Tell  me — for  you  must  know — why  Belknap  elected 
to  visit  Myquest  at  all." 


262  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"I  can't  tell  you  that  because  I  do  not  know." 
"Is  that  statement  literally  true,  geiiorita?" 
*'It  is  literally  true,  Mr.  Harvard.  I  thought  I 
knew,  at  the  beginning,  but  I  was  mistaken.  I  have 
conjectured  about  it  since,  only  to  find  myself  again 
mistaken.  His  ways  are  past  finding  out.  He  is  an 
accomplished  scoundrel  who  compels  others  to  do  his 
bidding.  Beyond  cheating  at  cards,  he  considers  him- 
self above  actual  outlawry;  he  forces  others  to  com- 
mit his  crimes  for  him.  If  he  should  determine  to  rob 
your  bank  in  New  York,  he  would,  himself,  be  a  thou- 
sand miles  away  when  it  was  done.  If  he  should  at- 
tempt to  blackmail  you,  his  own  hand  would  not  be 
visible  in  the  consummation  of  it.  If  he  sought  Mme. 
Savage's  jewels,  he  might  locate  them,  but  he  would 
take  no  part  in  securing  them.  If  he  desired  the  death 
of  Bruce  Brainard,  the  murder  would  be  committed, 
but  there  would  be  nothing  to  connect  him  witli 
the  crime.  I  can  conjecture  a  score  of  reasons  why 
he  is  at  Myquest,  and  yet  not  hit  upon  the  right  one." 

"That  reminds  me,"  Harvard  said  quickly.  "Did 
you  know  that  he  is  no  longer  at  Myquest?" 

"No,"  she  replied  calmly;  "but  I  suspected  that  he 
was  making  ready  to  disappear,  because  of  his  defiance 
of  Mr.  Brainard,  at  the  boat-house,  last  evening. 
Doubtless  you  have  been  told  about  that." 

"Yes;  Carruthers — that  is,  Brainard — told  me." 
"I  ought  to  warn  you,  Mr.  Harvard,  that  C.  B.  is 
more  dangerous  when  absent  than  when  present.  If 
he  has  gone,  as  you  say,  he  has  not  gone  far.  Rest  as- 
sured that  he  is  making  preparations  for  the  final 
coup  that  brought  him  here." 

"H-m !  Perhaps  there  is  something  in  what  you  say. 
It  is  in  line  with  Brainard's  assertions.  Will  you 


WHAT  ROBERTA  HAD  TO  TELL       263 

tell  me  now  why  you  dropped  that  acrostic  warning  to 
him  from  your  balcony  ?" 

"Certainly.  I  did  it  wholly  on  my  own  account,  to 
put  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  seeking  conversations 
with  me.  I  neither  knew  that  we  were  watched  nor 
cared  if  we  were,  but  I  did  wish  to  startle  him  into  leav- 
ing me  alone." 

"I  see.  Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  that  at- 
tempted burglary  the  other  night?" 

"I  can  only  guess  as  to  that,  but  I  think  it  will  be  a 
good  guess." 

"Let  me  hear  what  it  is,  then." 

"I  have  told  you  that  he  has  underlings  who  do  his 
dirty  work  for  him.  My  guess  is  this:  that  he  has 
promised  them  some  pickings  from  the  plate  and  jewels 
and  other  valuables  to  be  obtained  in  your  home,  and 
that  one  of  their  number,  who  is  also  a  leader,  and 
jealous  of  C.  B,,  has  worked  upon  their  impatience  of 
restraint,  and  prevailed  upon  them  not  to  await  his 
pleasure.  It  is  unimportant.  Nothing  happened. 
What  did  happen  could  have  had  no  connection  with 
the  actual  reason  for  C.  B.'s  presence." 

"Here  is  another  point,"  Harvard  said,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  thought.  "Cranshaw  Belding  is  the  name  of 
the  man  whom  Brainard  is  actually  seeking.  The  de- 
partment he  serves  has  been  held  at  bay  because  there 
was  no  proof  of  connection  between  Belknap  and  Beld- 
ing. Yet  for  more  than  ten  years  you  have  known  that 
the  two  were  identical ;  and  for  half  that  time,  at  least, 
Brainard  has  known  it.  Why,  then " 

"Please  wait.  I  know  what  you  would  ask.  Mr. 
Brainard's  unsupported  testimony  would  not  be  proof 
of  the  fact ;  my  additional  testimony  would  be  regarded 
as  biased  and  insufficient.  C.  B.  would  have  slipped 
out  of  the  law's  grasp.  More;  Mr.  Brainard  has  not 


264  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

been  willing  that  my  association  with  C.  B.  should  be 
disclosed.  He  has  insisted  that  other  means  could 
and  would  be  found  to  establish  the  identities." 

There  was  silence  after  that  which  endured  for  many 
minutes.  Then  Harvard,  with  a  measure  of  restraint  in 
his  voice,  said: 

"I  must  ask  you  something  more  in  regard  to  Bel- 
knap's  possible  motive,  or  motives,  for  coming  to  My- 
quest." 

"Please  don't,  Mr.  Harvard.  Ask  Mr.  Brainard,  if 
you  will.  His  opinion — and  it  would  be  merely  an 
opinion — is  vastly  better  than  mine." 

"Very  well,  then.  But  I  shall  ask  one  certain  thing 
of  you,  nevertheless." 

"Yes?" 

"It  is  that  when  we  return,  or  as  soon  thereafter 
as  possible,  you  will  relate  to  Mrs.  Harvard  precisely 
what  you  have  told  to  me;  and  that  you  will  tell  her 
that  you  have  told  me.  Will  you  Dromise  me  to  do 
that?" 

"Yes." 

"Thank  you.  I  wish  to  discuss  the  subject  with 
her,  but  I  prefer  that  you  should  tell  your  story  to  her 
first." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE    DEVOTION    OF    JULIUS 

WHEN  Bing  and  Roberta  got  back,  luncheon  had 
just  been  announced,  and  the  guests  were  already  as- 
sembling for  the  midday  meal.  Belknap's  absence  had 
not  been  generally  noticed  until  then. 

After  it  there  was  some  discussion  of  the  subject,  and 
Harvard — considerably  to  Katherine's  astonishment — 
allayed  the  curiosity  of  all  by  saying  casually : 

"Mr.  Belknap  was  called  away  suddenly  in  the  night. 
He  took  only  a  bag  with  him,  so  it  is  not  unlikely  that 
he  will  return  at  almost  any  time.'* 

Katherine,  watching  her  opportunity,  withdrew  from 
the  group  on  the  veranda  silently  and  unnoticed. 

She  had  determined  that  she  would  not  visit  Belknap 
at  the  Nest  before  the  day  to  follow,  which  would  have 
given  him  from  twenty-four  to  thirty-six  hours  to  ac- 
custom himself  to  the  fact  that  he  was  a  prisoner; 
but  there  was  one  subject  which  filled  her  with  im- 
patience of  restraint  of  any  sort,  and  she  was  eager 
to  question  the  man.  The  subject  was  her  brother 
Roderick. 

"Why  wait?"  she  asked  herself  as  she  stepped  back- 
ward through  an  open  window  and  glided  swiftly  away. 
"No  matter  how  angry  he  may  be  at  finding  himself 
helpless,  I  need  have  no  fear  of  him  there.  I  will  be 
amply  protected  by  a  hundred  devices  that  he  is 
ignorant  of." 

So  she  did  not  seek  her  room. 
265 


266  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

She  passed  through  the  house  and  left  it  at  the  rear, 
and  she  followed  the  longest  route  that  she  could  have 
taken  to  bring  her  to  the  Nest. 

Nevertheless,  as  she  approached  it  at  last,  through 
the  wood,  and  when  she  was  nearly  to  the  point  where 
she  manipulated  the  mechanism  of  the  first  stairs,  she 
came,  quite  unexpectedly,  upon  Black  Julius,  who  had 
been  leaning  his  back  against  a  tree,  but  who  started 
forward  eagerly  as  she  drew  near. 

"Why,  what  are  you  doing  here,  Julius?"  she  asked 
him  quickly. 

"I  was  waitin'  fo'  you,  Mis'  Kitten,"  was  the  as- 
tonishing reply,  given  with  the  freedom  of  his  class 
when  devotion  to  their  "home-folks"  is  the  incentive. 

"Waiting  for  me?  Here?"  his  mistress  demanded 
with  a  show  of  impatience. 

"Yes,  Mis'  Kitten;  waitin'  just  the  same  as  I  uster 
wait,  when  you  was  a  little  wee  mite  of  a  girl,  only  so 
high,  every  time  that  I  thought  you  had  somethin'  on 
youah  mind  that  you'd  like  to  tell  Julius  about.  I  knew 
that  you'd  come  along  past  heah  sooner  'r  later, 
an' — an'  you  mustn't  be  mad  at  me,  Mis'  Kitten,  please 
— I  reckoned  that  mebby  you'd  let  me  help." 

Poor  Julius  was  terribly  disturbed.  He  had  passed 
the  last  half  of  the  preceding  night,  and  all  of  that 
day  thus  far,  in  a  state  of  mental  torture.  Particu- 
larly had  he  suffered  since  the  revelations  at  the  con- 
ference in  Harvard's  den,  and  at  the  risk  of  mortally 
offending  his  beloved  mistress,  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  speak. 

"You  must  tell  me,  quite  plainly,  what  you  are  talk- 
ing about,  Julius,"  Katherine  said. 

"Mis'  Kitten,  I  suspect  mebby  you'll  never  fo'give 
me,  but  I  was  watchin'  that  Belknap  white  trash  last 
night.  I'd  been  watchin'  him  all  day,  too.  I  had 


THE  DEVOTION  OF  JULIUS  267 

seen  enough  to  know  that  he  was  crooked.  I 
suspected  that  he  was  a  thief.  But  it  don't  make  any 
difference  what  he  was  or  is,  I  was  watchin',  and  I 
knew  when  he  left  the  house.  Then  I  lost  sight  of  him 
fo'  a  while,  but  I  found  him  again,  hidin'  out  heah  be- 
hind a  tree,  an'  waitin'  fo'  somebody.  I  suspected  that 
the  somebody  was  another  white  trash  like  himself,  an* 
that  mebby  they  was  goin'  to  rob  the  house ;  but  I  saw 
you  meet  him — please,  please  fo'give  Black  Julius,  Mis' 
Kitten — an'  I  saw  you  lead  him  away,  goin'  toward  the 
Nest.  But  I  couldn't  believe  that  you  would  take  him 
there,  where  nobody  but  youah  own  self  has  ever 
been — an*  I  didn't  believe  it  till  last  night,  when  I 
found  out  that — that — Oh,  Mis'  Kitten,  there  is  some- 
thing else  that  I  found  out  last  night,  too,  that  I  jes* 
must  tell  you  about  as  soon  as  I  get  through  with  this." 

Katherine,  with  her  eyes  steadily  upon  the  black, 
listened  without  motion  or  expression,  too  greatly  as- 
tonished and  too  profoundly  moved  to  speak  before 
she  had  heard  all  that  Julius  had  to  tell. 

"I  didn't  believe  that  you  had  taken  that  man  to 
the  Nest  last  night  until  I  found  out  that  there  is  a  lot 
of  men  hangin'  around  Myquest  to  gobble  him  up  if  he 
tries  to  get  away ;  and  then  I  knew  that  you  must 
have  done  it.  And  I  knew  that  you  would  be  going 
there  sometime  to-day  to  see  him  again ;  so  I  waited 
right  heah." 

"Why?  To  tell  me  that  you  had  been  spying  upon 
your  mistress?"  Katherine  asked  coldly. 

"Mis'  Kitten,  I  ain't  been  spyin'  on  you;  I've  been 
spyin'  on  him,  and  I  just  happened  to  see  you.  And  I 
waited  because  I  wanted  to  ask  you  if  you  please,  please, 
would  let  ole  Black  Julius  help  you  in  whatever  it  is 
that  you're  doin'." 

There  was  suspicious  moisture  in  Katherine's  eyes  as 


268  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

she  took  a  step  forward  and  rested  one  hand  on  Julius's 
arm. 

She  understood  the  depth  of  his  devotion.  She  knew, 
without  asking,  that  he  had  told  nobody  of  what  he  had 
seen. 

"Yes,  Julius,"  she  said  softly,  "I  will  let  you  help 
me.  I  am  glad  that  you  saw,  and  that  you  found  the 
courage  to  speak.  You  shall  help  me — but  not  just 
now.  Go  to  your  cottage  and  wait  there  for  me. 
Sometime  this  afternoon,  or  evening,  I  will  seek  you, 
and  then  I  will  tell  you  what  you  can  do.  Wait, 
Julius !"  as  he  started  away  obediently.  "What  was 
the  'something  else'  that  you  found  out  about  last 
night  which  you  'just  must  tell  me  about'?" 

"Mis'  Kitten,  it  is  something  that's  mighty  im- 
portant; but — but — will  you  please  wait  till  you  come 
to  the  cabin  to  see  me,  an'  let  me  tell  you  then? 
Please?" 

Katherine  nodded,  and  smiled,  and  passed  on.  Julius 
stood  quite  still,  watching  after  her ;  and  as  he  watched 
he  murmured  to  himself  softly: 

"Bless  her  sweet  heart!  I  wonder  what  she'll  say 
when  I  tell  her  that  Mister  Roddie  is  right  heah  at 
Myquest,  without  her  knowin'  a  word  about  it?" 

When  Katherine  stepped  upon  the  threshold  of  the 
door  that  had  mechanically  opened  to  admit  her  to  the 
Nest,  she  saw  Belknap  standing  beside  the  big  oak 
table,  with  one  hand  resting  lightly  upon  it,  regarding 
her  with  a  half-quizzical  smile  which,  for  once,  was 
without  its  wonted  wolfishness  of  expression. 

Between  them,  close  to  the  open  door,  yawned  an 
oblong  hole  in  the  floor — as  she  had  warned  him  might 
happen — which  was  silently  filled  while  she  waited,  al- 
though he  could  not  discover  any  act  of  hers  that 
operated  the  mechanism  of  closing  it. 


THE  DEVOTION  OF  JULIUS  269 

When  she  passed  inside,  the  door  closed  auto- 
matically behind  her.  As  soon  as  that  happened,  Bel- 
linap  spoke. 

"Please  wait  a  moment  where  you  are,  Mrs.  Har- 
vard," he  said.  "I  want  to  ask  you  a  question." 

"Yes?"  she  replied,  pausing. 

"What  is  there  to  prevent  me  from  leaping  forward, 
now,  upon  you,  and  seizing  you,  if  I  were  so  disposed?" 

"Tell  me  first  why  you  ask  the  question;  then — per- 
haps— I  will  reply  to  it,"  she  answered  him. 

"I  ask  it  because  I  have  discovered  that  I  am  a 
prisoner  here;  that  I  cannot  get  out  of  this  house 
save  at  your  own  good  pleasure — unless  I  seize  you 
and  compel  you  to  let  me  out.  What  is  there  to  pre- 
vent me  from  doing  that  very  thing?  For  if  I  should 
seize  you,  I  could  make  you  do  it.  You  know  that." 

"Are  you  very  curious  about  the  answer  to  your  first 
question?"  she  asked,  and  gave  him  an  inscrutable 
smile. 

"Yes." 

"There  is  nothing  to  prevent  you  from  attempting 
it,  Mr.  Belknap.  There  is  something  to  keep  you  from 
accomplishing  it.  If  you  doubt  me,  try  it.  I  am  here ; 
you  are  there — at  a  distance  of  about  three  yards. 
Spring,  if  you  like;  seize  me,  if  you  can.  If  you  suc- 
ceed— if  you  can  get  close  enough  to  me  to  touch  me 
with  the  ends  of  your  fingers,  I  will  promise  to  let 
you  out  of  this  house  whenever  you  have  the  desire  to 
go,  day  or  night.  Try  it,"  she  repeated,  mockingly. 

"By  Jove !"  he  exclaimed,  "I  have  the  will  to  try  it." 

"Do  so;  only,  be  warned.  You  will  sincerely  regret 
the  act." 

For  a  moment  he  regarded  her  steadily,  and  she 
realized  that  he  was  actually  on  the  point  of  making 


270  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

the  attempt.  But  he  hesitated;  and  hesitating,  sur- 
rendered. 

"You  win,"  he  said,  and  grinned,  as  if  it  was  an 
actual  pleasure  to  him  to  be  bested.  "I  don't  know 
whether  you  are  bluffing  or  not.  If  you  are,  you're  the 
champion  bluffer  of  the  continent.  Anyhow,  I  won't 
call  you  this  time." 

"Thank  you,"  she  replied.  "Now,  will  you  be  so 
good  as  to  seat  yourself  in  the  armchair  behind  you? 
When  you  have  done  that  I  will  pass  around  to  the 
chair  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  table." 

"Huh!"  he  exclaimed,  half  jestingly.  "How  do  I 
know  that  it  isn't  a  trick-chair,  and  that  it  will  fly 
through  the  ceiling  or  disappear  through  the  floor  the 
minute  I  touch  it?" 

"You  don't  know;  that  is  the  crux  of  all  the  mys- 
teries of  this  house.  You  don't  know  them.  I  do." 

"Mrs.  Harvard,"  he  said,  "you're  a  wonder!"  and 
he  dropped  upon  the  chair. 

Katherine  passed  quickly  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
table. 

She  pulled  open  a  drawer  in  it,  and  closed  it  again. 
She  moved  some  of  the  magazines  and  books  that  were 
upon  it.  She  dropped  her  handkerchief  to  the  floor 
and  stooped  to  regain  it,  and  as  she  straightened  again 
she  heard  a  sharp  and  angry  expletive  from  Belknap; 
it  was  not  really  an  oath,  although  very  near  to  one. 

Katherine  was  smiling  when  her  eyes  encountered 
Belknap's  angry  gaze. 

"You  are  not  uncomfortable,  are  you?"  she  asked. 
"That  steel  arm  doesn't  pinch  too  closely,  does  it?  You 
see,  I  thought  it  wise  to  teach  you  a  lesson.  One  of 
my  workmen  procured  me  the  model  of  that  chair 
in  the  ancient  city  of  Nuremberg.  History  will  tell 


THE  DEVOTION  OF  JULIUS  271 

you  of  others,  somewhat  like  it,  although  this  one  is  an 
improvement." 

Katherine,  in  one  of  her  motions  at  or  behind  the 
table,  had  loosened  the  mechanism  of  the  Nuremberg" 
chair.  A  steel  arm  which  ordinarily  looked  to  be 
merely  a  part  of  its  back,  had  been  released,  and  had 
swung  around  to  the  front,  a  foot  above  Belknap's 
waist,  and  had  locked  itself  fast,  with  the  result  that 
while  he  was  entirely  free  to  use  his  arms  and  hands 
and  legs  and  feet,  he  could  not  rise  from  the  chair,  or 
get  out  of  it;  and  he  had  already  made  the  discovery 
that  he  could  not,  for  he  had  tried. 

"Will  you  be  good  if  I  will  release  you?"  she  asked 
him. 

"You'd  better  wait  a  little  till  I  recover  my  temper," 
he  said  with  a  grim  smile. 

"When  you  wish  to  be  freed,  tell  me." 

"You  should  have  lived  in  the  middle  ages,"  he  said, 
half  crossly,  half  admiringly. 

"No ;  I  would  not  then  have  had  the  aid  of  elec- 
tricity and  hydraulics." 

"Well,  anyhow " 

"There  is  something  that  I  want  to  ask  you  about, 
Mr.  Belknap.  Perhaps  I  had  better  keep  you  where 
you  are  until  I  do  that.  You  may  be  more  amenable." 

"Possibly.     What  is  it?" 

"I  want  you  to  tell  me  everything  that  you  know 
about  my  brother  Roderick.  That  is  why  I  have 
come  to  you  to-day.  Otherwise  I  should  have  left  you 
entirely  to  yourself  until  to-morrow." 

"H-m!"  he  said. 

"Are  you  willing  to  tell  me  all  that  you  can  tell  me  ?" 
she  asked. 

"I  don't  know,  Mrs.  Harvard.  Possibly  we  can  bar- 
gain about  it." 


272  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Bargain  about  it?"  she  asked. 

"Exactly  that,"  he  rejoined. 

"What  is  it  that  you  would  want  me  to  do  in  re- 
turn for  such  information  as  you  can  give  me  about 
my  brother?" 

Belknap  hesitated  a  moment,  in  deep  thought.  Then 
he  replied: 

"To-day  is  Tuesday.  I  will  want  you,  to-morrow 
night  or  the  night  following — and  I  will  decide  that 
point  when  I  see  you  to-morrow — to  come  here  to  me, 
say  a  little  before  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  will 
want  you,  then,  to  let  me  go  outside.  I  will  be  pre- 
pared and  ready  to  go  as  soon  as  you  arrive.  I  will 
want  you  to  remain  here,  waiting  for  me,  until  I  re- 
turn— which  will  be  an  hour;  possibly  two  hours.  If 
you  will  definitely  agree  to  all  of  those  stipulations,  I 
will,  right  now,  tell  you  all  that  I  know  about  your 
brother." 

"I  wonder,"  she  replied,  musingly,  "if  you  are  in  the 
habit  of  keeping  your  promises." 

"No,"  he  frankly  admitted,  "I  am  not.  But  I  will 
keep  that  one." 

"Would  you  also  keep  the  other  one — to  return 
here  within  two  hours?" 

"I  will  do  that,  save  in  one  event.  You  see,  I  am 
quite  frank  with  you." 

"You  appear  to  be  so." 

"If  that  event  occurs — and  I  believe  it  very  likely 
that  it  will — I  will  not  return ;  I  will  go  elsewhere ;  dis- 
appear; will  have  ceased  to  annoy  you  by  my  presence 
at  Myquest.  Surely  that  would  please  you  more  than 
to  have  me  back  here,  a  burden  on  your  hands." 

She  nodded  without  replying.     He  went  on : 

"If  we  agree  to  this  bargain — if  I  do  go  outside  to- 
morrow night  or  the  one  following,  and  have  not  re- 


THE  DEVOTION  OF  JULIUS  273 

turned  by  four  o'clock,  you  will  know  that  I  will  not 
come,  and  that  you  are  well  rid  of  me." 

Katherine  shook  her  head  negatively. 

"I  don't  think  that  I  can  agree  to  that,  Mr.  Bel- 
knap,  even  at  the  tempting  price  you  offer — informa- 
tion about  my  brother,"  she  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"There  are  several  reasons.  For  one  thing,  I  am 
beginning  to  suspect  that  your  knowledge  of  him 
doesn't  amount  to  much ;  I  have  begun  to  doubt  if 
there  is  anything  that  you  can  tell  me  about  him  that 
is  worth  while.  Still,  I  might  nevertheless  bargain 
with  you,  and  hear  what  you  might  tell  me,  if  it  were 
not  for  another  consideration." 

"Tell  me  what  that  one  is,"  he  asked  her.  "But 
first,  let  me  out  of  this  chair." 

She  nodded,  and  passed  around  behind  him.  Al- 
though he  turned  his  head  and  tried  his  best  to  observe 
her  every  act,  he  had  not  the  least  notion  when  and 
how  she  again  worked  the  mechanism  of  the  Nurem- 
berg chair.  But  the  steel  arm  that  held  him  fast  was 
released;  it  flew  back  to  its  former  position  as  if  it 
were  one  of  the  braces  at  the  back  of  the  chair,  and  as 
he  got  upon  his  feet,  Katherine  returned  quickly  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  table.  From  there  she  replied 
to  his  last  question. 

"The  other  consideration — and  I  have  decided  that 
I  cannot  believe  any  promise  that  you  might  make  in  the 
negative  about  it — is  this:  the  use  you  would  make 
of  your  two  hours  of  liberty.  You  might  seek  my 
father  and  mother,  and  betray  to  them  the  fact  that  my 
brother  lives — although  I  do  not  really  think  you 
would  do  that ;  you  would  have  no  good  reason  for  do- 
ing it.  You  might  help  yourself  to  all  the  jewels  of 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

my  guests  while  I  waited  here  and  passively  permitted 
it.  You  might " 

"One  moment,  please,"  he  interrupted. 

"Well?" 

"If  I  will  tell  you  exactly  what  brought  me  to  My- 
quest  at  this  time,  exactly  why  I  am  here  at  all — if  I 
tell  you  precisely  what  my  errand  outside  will  be — 
will  you  give  me  your  word  (I  know  that  you  will  keep 
it  if  you  make  the  promise)  that  you  will  not  speak  or 
write  or  otherwise  convey  any  warning  whatsoever  of 
my  intention?" 

"I  will  consider  it,"  she  replied  with  a  slow  smile. 
"You  had  better  act  upon  that  much  of  a  promise 
from  me,  for  otherwise  you  cannot  get  out  until  I 
choose  to  let  you  out." 

"All  right,"  he  answered  instantly.     "I'll  tell  you." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

BELKNAP    SHOWS    HIS    HAND 

"SHALL,  I  tell  you  about  your  brother  first?"  Bel- 
knap  began,  "or  shall  I " 

"Yes,  please,"  Katherine  interrupted  him. 

With  pronounced  deliberation  he  selected  another 
chair  and  drew  it  forward.  Smilingly  he  seated  him- 
self upon  it.  In  a  mocking  tone  he  said: 

"But,  no.  That  will  keep.  I  perceive  that  you  are 
more  concerned  with  that  subject  than  by  the  fear 
that  some  of  your  guests  might  be  robbed.  It  is  quite 
natural,  I  agree.  But  it  is  good  bargaining  when  one 
holds  back  the  highest  price  for  the  last  bid." 

Katherine  shrugged,  and  did  not  reply. 

"Xow,  listen,  please,"  he  went  on,  "for  what  I  will 
tell  you  is  the  truth — and  I  have  the  feeling  that  you 
will  believe  me,  in  part,  if  not  in  whole." 

Katherine  made  no  response,  even  in  gesture. 

"I  am  a  man  of  strange  complexities,"  he  continued. 
"Frequently  the  variety  of  them  amazes  me.  I  am  a 
many-sided  individual.  I  was  born  without  compas- 
sion, without  morals,  and  without  physical  fear.  Also 
I  inherited  (I  assume  that  I  did)  a  passion  for  precious 
stones.  As  I  grew  older  I  began  to  make  a  collection 
of  rare  and  priceless  gems.  I  became,  literally,  a  col- 
lector— in  other  words,  a  madman  on  that  subject. 

"I  made  one  rule  for  myself  when  I  began  the  col- 
lection, which,  by  the  way,  now  contains  the  pick  and 

275 


276  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

choice  of  the  world.  That  rule  was  that  I  would  never 
pay  one  dollar  for  a  gem  or  jewel  that  I  coveted." 

"Do  you  mean,"  Katherine  asked,  "that  unless  the 
jewel  came  into  your  possession  by  theft  it  would  have 
no  value  in  your  eyes?" 

"Precisely,  Mrs.  Harvard."  He  bent  forward  in  the 
chair  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  hers.  "Have  you  ever 
heard  of  a  certain  wonderful  stone — two  jewels  in  one, 
in  fact — that  is  called  'Nadja's  Eye'?"  he  asked  her 
with  an  intensity  of  utterance  that  assured  her  of  his 
entire  earnestness. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  calmly,  although  he  could  see  that 
she  gave  an  involuntary  shudder.  "I  have  seen  it.  It 
is  a  baleful  thing." 

"It  is  a  ruby  of  the  size  and  shape  of  a  pigeon's 
egg,"  he  went  on,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  her;  only  she 
was  presently  to  know  that  he  did.  "Imbedded  in  the 
center  of  it  is  an  emerald  of  two  or  three  karats.  It 
is  claimed  that  nature  could  not  have  put  it  there; 
that  the  two  jewels  are  too  foreign  to  each  other  for 
such  a  thing  to  have  resulted  from  natural  causes ;  that 
the  art  of  some  ancient  and  skilled  lapidary  must  have 
accomplished  it.  But  the  fact  remains  that  it  is  there. 
Very  well."  He  caught  his  breath  sharply  and  was 
very  pale.  "You  say  that  you  have  seen  it?" 

Katherine  nodded. 

"Then,  in  that  case,  you  know  that  it  is  here,  at 
Myquest,  now,  don't  you?" 

"No,"  she  replied.  "In  fact  I  am  almost  sure  that  it 
is  not." 

"You  know  that  it  is  the  property  of  Mme.  Savage, 
don't  you?" 

"Yes;  but  I  also  know  that  she  keeps  it  in  one  of 
her  safe  deposit " 

"You  are  mistaken,  Mrs.  Harvard.     She  does  not. 


BELKNAP  SHOWS  HIS  HAND  277 

It  is  never  out  of  her  possession.  She  carries  it  with 
her  wherever  she  goes — just  as  she  carries  always  with 
her  that  other  rare  gem  that  she  owns  which  has  so 
often  been  described  in  the  newspapers.  But  for  that, 
barring  its  value  in  cash,  I  would  not  give  a  flip  of  a 
coin." 

He  got  up  from  the  chair  and  began  to  pace  the 
floor  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  table  from  Katherine. 

"Let  me  tell  you,  Lady  Kate,  that  I  would  barter 
my  soul — if  I  have  one — to  possess  the  'Eye  of  Nadja,' 
as  it  is  named  in  Hindustanee.  Twice  I  have  had  her 
home  in  the  city  searched  by  men  in  my  pay,  and  un- 
der my  direction.  Twice  I  have  engaged  women-crooks 
to  drug  Mme.  Savage  and  search  her.  For  more  than 
a  year  I  have  kept  at  least  one  and  sometimes  three 
women  in  her  home,  as  maids,  to  spy  out  the  hiding 
place  of  the  wonderful  jewel.  They  have  seen  it,  but 
they  have  never  been  able  to  discover  where  and  how 
she  hides  it;  but  they  have  been  able  to  convince  me 
that  she  takes  it  with  her  wherever  she  goes,  and  that 
it  is  never  far  out  of  her  reach.  So  I  knew,  when  I 
discovered  that  she  was  coming  down  here,  that  she 
would  bring  it  with  her. 

"Very  well.  I  came  to  Myquest  primarily  to  get  the 
Eye  of  Nadja.  I  believed  that  because  of  the  threat 
I  could  hold  over  you,  I  could  compel  you  to  aid  me  in 
securing  it;  but  I  speedily  changed  my  mind  about 
that.  But  I  came  here  also  to  keep  an  eye  on  the 
madame — to  be  close  to  her  where  I  could  watch  her — 
to  study  her,  and  to  determine  because  of  that  close 
observation,  what  her  method  and  means  of  concealing 
the  jewel  might  be.  I  am  an  expert  at  that  sort  of 
thing.  It  has  been  a  life-study.  If  a  man  who  carries 
a  large  sum  of  money  in  one  of  his  pockets  is  under  my 


278  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

observation  ten  minutes,  I  can  tell  you  in  which  pocket 
he  carries  it.     It  is  a  science  that  I  have  mastered. 

"I  know  now,  therefore — I  am  convinced  that  I  know 
— where  to  find  the  Eye  of  Nadja;  I  know  what  Mme. 
Savage  does  with  it  when  she  stays  at  a  place  like  My- 
quest.  I  am  sure  that  I  can  get  my  hands  on  it,  and 
get  away  with  it  within  two  hours  after  you  let  me 
out  of  this  place  to-morrow  night,  or  the  following 
one. 

"There  you  have  it,  Lady  Kate — and  I  have  your 
promise  that  you  will  impart  no  warning  whatever  of / 
my  purpose." 

"Will  you  tell  me,"  Katherine  asked  coolly,  "why 
you  have  waited  until  now  to  take  the  jewel,  if  you  have 
been  so  sure  of  how  to  take  it?" 

"I  waited  because  I  had  to  wait — because  I  was 
stupid — because  it  was  not  until  you  had  succeeded 
in  locking  me  fast  in  this  chalet  of  yours,  where  I  have 
been  in  absolute  solitude,  that  I  have  had  the  sense 
and  the  wit  to  apply  all  of  my  brain  power  to  the  prob- 
lem. It  was  not  until  after  I  was  imprisoned  by  you 
that  I  was  able  to  deduce  the  truth  from  my  study  of 
Mme.  Savage." 

"Are  you  satisfied,  now,  that  you  know  how  and 
where  to  find  the  ruby?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it." 

"If  I  should  consent  to  grant  you  the  two  hours' 
liberty  you  desire,  would  the  theft  of  the  Eye  of  Nadja 
be  all  that  you  would  attempt — whether  you  succeed 
in  securing  it  or  should  not  succeed?" 

''Yes.  I  will  promise  that — and  I  will  keep  the 
promise." 

"I  place  little  value  upon  your  promises,  Mr.  Bel- 
knap;  you  have  assured  me  that  they  are  of  little 
value." 


BELKNAP  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     279 

"I  will  keep  that  one." 

"Does  Mme.  Savage  conceal  the  jewel  on  her  per- 
son?" 

"No.  I  don't  think  that  she  ever  does  that;  nor  in 
the  room  where  she  sleeps.  I  am  so  certain  about 
that  that  I  am  willing  to  agree  not  to  go  to  her  room 
when  you  set  me  at  liberty,  unless  you  are  considering 
the  project  of  conveying  some  sort  of  message  to  her 
about  it." 

"I  have  already  given  my  promise  as  to  that,  Mr. 
Belknap — in  case  I  consent  to  your  proposition.  I 
will  not  even  mention  the  name  of  the  jewel  to  any- 
body in  that  case." 

"Well,  then?" 

"Is  your  covetousness  of  Nadja's  Eye  your  only 
object  in  being  at  Myquest?" 

"Yes." 

"What  about  card-cheating,  and  your  suggestions 
of  blackmail?" 

"Merely  by-products,  Lady  Kate.     Pastime." 

"I  can  believe  that.  What  is  Senorita  Cervantez  to 
you?" 

Belknap  was  startled  by  the  sudden  question,  and 
showed  it ;  but  he  replied  without  hesitation : 

"She  is — no;  she  was,  once,  my  wife." 

"Your— wife?" 

It  was  Katherine's  turn  to  be  startled. 

"Yes,"  he  replied.  "We  were  married  ten  years  ago, 
when  she  was  seventeen  and  I  was  twenty-four.  She 
left  me  within  two  years — when  she  found  out  that  I 
was  a  crook — and  secured  a  divorce.  I  am  telling  you 
the  literal  truth,  Lady  Kate.  It  is  my  one  weakness 
that  she  is  the  only  woman  I  have  ever — er — cared  for. 
I  succeeded  in  finding  her  again  something  less  than 
three  years  ago.  She  had  learned  to  love  another  man 


280  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

in  the  meantime — chiefly,  I  suppose,  because  she  had 
never  loved  me,  really.  She  had  not  married  the  other 
man,  notwithstanding  her  divorce  from  me,  because 
she  believed  that  I  would  have  procured  his  death  if 
she  did  so — as  I  unquestionably  would  have  done — as, 
without  much  doubt,  I  would  have  done  anyhow,  if  I 
had  been  able,  ever,  to  find  him;  to  be  sure  of  his 
identity.  I  have  only  known  of  him ;  I  have  never, 
knowingly,  seen  him.  All  that  I  know  about  him  is  his 
name — his  real  name,  which  he  does  not  use." 

"But "  Katherine  hesitated,  and  then  went  on: 

"but  she  returned  to  you!" 

"She  returned  with  me;  not  to  me,  Mrs.  Harvard. 
A  moment  ago  I  mentioned  my  one  weakness.  I  was 
not  accurate;  I  have  another  which  I  have  had  oc- 
casion, many  times,  greatly  to  regret.  It  is,  doubtless 
inherited  from  my  mother's  side.  I  carry  about  with 
me,  always,  a  compelling  respect  and  sentinel-like  re- 
gard for  good  womanhood.  To  my  shame,  in  the  light 
of  my  other  characteristics,  I  admit  it.  I  forced  Ro- 
berta— that  is  her  given  name — to  become  a  part  of  my 
life,  but  it  was  always  an  extrinsic  part.  I  have  made 
her  condone  my  criminalities — even  to  play  a  part  in 
them,  at  times.  But  she  is  as  good  and  pure  as  I  am 
— the  opposite." 

"But " 

"I  have  controlled  her,  up  to  a  certain  point,  by 
holding  a  threat  over  her — and  she  has  dreaded  its 
fulfillment  more  than  she  has  feared  anything  else  in 
the  world." 

"A  threat!  You  coerced  her  by  the  same  method 
that  you  used  to  try  to  work  your  will  with  me." 

"Precisely;  and  my  threat  against  her  had  to  do 
with  the  same  person  as  with  you." 


BELKNAP  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     281 

"Why,  what  can  you  mean  by  that  statement,  Mr. 
Belknap?"  Katherine  demanded,  puzzled. 

"Lady  Kate,"  Belknap  said,  evenly,  "the  name  of 
the  man  whose  life  I  threatened  in  Roberta's  case,  and 
whose  liberty  I  threatened  in  yours,  is  the  same.  His 
name  is  Roderick  Maxwilton." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE  JINEE  ON  GUARD 

KATHERINE  started  to  her  feet,  white  to  the  lips. 

"My  brother !"  she  cried  out,  almost  with  a  gasp. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Harvard;  your  brother,"  Belknap  re- 
sponded coolly. 

"Where  is  he  now?"  she  demanded. 

"I  don't  know." 

"You  have  admitted  that  you  do  not  even  know 
him  by  sight ;  that  you  would  not  recognize  him  if  you 
should  see  him." 

"I  would  not." 

"Then  your  threats  in  regard  to  him  were  idle  ones." 

"In  part — yes.  I  could  have  searched  him  out  long 
ago  if  I  had  determined  upon  doing  it.  If  I  had  done 
it,  I  would  have  killed  him,  or  have  had  him  killed.  I 
tell  you  that  frankly.  I  did  not  do  it,  or  attempt  it, 
simply  because  I  knew  that  I  would  cut  off  the  limb 
between  me  and  the  tree  if  I  did  so.  If  I  had  injured 
him,  Roberta  would  have  killed  me — and  she  possessed 
the  means  to  do  it.  She  might  even  have  gone  to  the 
length  of  sacrificing  herself  to  me  in  order  to  secure 
the  needed  opportunity,  had  it  become  necessary.  I 
have  determined  upon  doing  it  a  thousand  times,  and 
as  often  changed  my  mind.  I  have  hoped  against  hope 
that  Roderick  Maxwilton  might  die  a  natural  death ; 
for,  in  that  case,  upon  my  promise  to  abandon  my 
manner  of  life,  Roberta  might  have  turned  to  me  again. 

282 


THE  JINEE  ON  GUARD  283 

Since  an  interview  I  had  with  her  recently,  in  her 
room,  here  at  Myquest,  I  have  given  up  even  that 
thought.  He  was  here — your  brother — that  same 
night.  She  met  him  outside " 

"Then — I  saw  him!"  Katherine  exclaimed  in  a  half 
whisper. 

"Possibly,"  he  rejoined  coolly.  "But  you  would  not 
recognize  him.  He  possesses  a  hundred  disguises — so 
she  has  assured  me,  and  I  believe  her.  If  I  did  not 
know  the  impossibility  of  his  entering  the  secret  service 
because  of  the  crime  that  is  charged  against  him  (and 
which  I  happen  to  know  he  did  not  commit)  I  would 
have  thought  that  Carruthers,  whom  you  heard  me 
defy,  might  be  he.  But  that  is  absurd.  He  could  not 
get  into  that  department  without  a  clean  record." 

Belknap  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  and  stopping 
and  pacing  again.  Katherine  had  resumed  her  chair. 
Now,  she  sat  with  clasped  hands,  staring  straight  in 
front  of  her.  He  noticed  the  fact  and  passed  around 
to  her  side  of  the  table  until  he  stood  beside  her  chair, 
within  reach  of  her. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "that  I  could  seize  you  now, 
if  I  were  so  disposed.  You  have  been  off  your  guard." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  and  smiled  wanly,  without 
changing  her  attitude. 

"Possibly,"  she  said;  "but  I  do  not  think  that  you 
will  attempt  it." 

He  shrugged,  with  a  measure  of  contempt  in  the 
gesture.  He  had  taken  that  position  with  that  very 
purpose  in  view  in  case  she  should  deny  his  last  plea — 
the  one  he  was  about  to  make.  If  she  guessed  his 
purpose,  she  gave  no  sign  of  the  fact. 

"Mrs.  Harvard,"  he  said,  "I  have  thrown  dpwn 
every  card  I  possess,  face  up,  on  the  table.  I  would 
commit  murder  a  dozen  times  over,  with  no  regard  for 


LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

the  victim,  if  by  doing  so  I  could  possess  the  Eye  of 
Nadja.  I  would  sacrifice  Roberta  for  it;  and  I  cannot 
make  a  stronger  statement  than  that.  Are  you  giving 
heed  to  what  I  say?" 

"Yes.  I  might  follow  you  better  if  you  should  stand 
a  little  farther  away — say  against  the  table  behind 
you.  You  can  as  easily  seize  me  from  there  as  where 
you  are,  if  you  have  the  mind  to  do  it." 

He  moved  backward  a  step  until  his  weight  was 
against  the  big  table,  and  stood  with  his  hands  resting 
lightly  upon  it  at  the  sides.  He  said : 

"The  jewel  is  of  no  value  to  anybody  save  a  col- 
lector. If  it  were  stolen,  nobody  would  dare  to  buy  it. 
Mme.  Savage  does  not  appreciate  it.  It  is  a  great  care 
to  her,  and  there  is  not  a  doubt  that  she  would  be  glad 
to  be  well  rid  of  it.  If  you  will  let  me  out  of  here  to- 
morrow night  at  two,  or  the  night  following,  at  the 
same  hour — I  will  decide  upon  which  one  to  employ — 
and  if  you  will,  yourself,  remain  here,  waiting,  until 
four  o'clock,  I  will  promise  you  this :  whether  I  succeed 
in  obtaining  the  jewel  or  not,  I  will,  after  the  attempt 
to  get  it,  go  away.  I  will  disappear.  I  will  not  give 
up  hope  of  securing  the  ruby,  sometime,  but  I  will 
never  cross  your  path  again — nor  Roberta's.  Nor 
your  brother's.  I  will  leave  them  free  to  marry  when 
they  will.  I  will  not  put  so  much  as  a  straw  in  their 
way,  before  or  after  it.  I  will  do  more.  This :  I  will, 
within  a  few  days,  send  you  documentary  proof  of  your 
brother's  entire  innocence  of  the  charges  that  lie  against 
him  with  the  government.  Such  is  the  price  that  I  am 
willing  and  eager  to  pay  for  the  opportunity  I  seek. 
Will  you  pay  it?" 

"Wait  a  moment,"  she  replied  in  a  low  tone,  as  if 
deeply  impressed  by  what  he  had  said ;  and  as  she  spoke 
she  got  slowly  upon  her  feet. 


THE  JINEE  ON  GUARD  285 

Her  entire  manner  was  if  she  were  utterly  absorbed 
in  the  contemplation  of  his  offer — and,  as  had  been  the 
case  with  her  a  moment  before,  Belknap  was  this  time 
taken  off  his  guard. 

She  arose  directly  in  front  of  her  chair  and  stood 
there  with  bowed  head  during  a  full  minute  while  he 
watched  her  narrowly  and  expectantly. 

His  whole  mind  was  centered  upon  the  possession  of 
the  coveted  ruby. 

After  another  moment  she  moved  slowly  nearer  to 
him,  until,  in  fact,  she  stood  nearly  beside  him ;  within, 
say,  twice  the  length  of  his  arm. 

Then  he  heard  a  sharp  click.  He  saw  her  leap  back- 
ward, away  from  the  table.  The  table  itself  dropped 
like  a  plummet  through  the  floor,  and,  because  he 
was  leaning  against  it,  carried  him  with  it.  An  in- 
stant later  he  found  himself  in  utter  darkness,  for  the 
aperture  above  the  table,  in  the  floor  over  his  head, 
had  closed. 

He  cursed  aloud ;  and  then  he  ceased  to  swear.  The 
floor  above  him  slid  open  again. 

"The  jinee  was  on  guard,  Mr.  Belknap,"  he  heard 
Katherine  say.  "Stand  still  and  I  will  bring  you  back. 
Then  I  will  leave  you.  But  I  will  tell  you  now  that  I 
have  decided  to  accept  your  proposition,  and  your 
promises.  You  shall  have  your  opportunity — and  I 
will  keep  to  my  promise  in  regard  to  it." 

Katherine  went  straightway  in  search  of  Roberta, 
and  not  discovering  her  among  the  guests  who  were 
scattered  about  the  grounds,  sought  her  in  her  room. 
The  door  was  quickly  opened  in  response  to  her  sum- 
mons, and  she  stepped  inside,  closed  the  door  behind 
her,  and  turned  the  key. 

"I  have  come,"  she  said  abruptly,  "to  ask  you  about 
my  brother  Roderick.  You  may  speak  out;  there  is 


286          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

no  longer  any  necessity  for  voicelessness.  I  have 
known,  almost  since  the  hour  of  your  arrival,  that  you 
are  Roberta  of  the  telephone  talks  with  me." 

Roberta  gasped.     Katherine  continued: 

"I  know  still  more — no  matter  how;  for  example, 
that  you  were  once  the  wife  of  Conrad  Belknap;  and 
that  you  are  now  willing  and  eager  to  become  my  sis- 
ter-in-law; but " 

"A  moment,  please,  Mrs.  Harvard,"  Roberta  said 
quickly  when  Katherine  hesitated  because  she  was  sud- 
denly conscious  of  the  severity  of  her  tone,  and  realized 
that  she  had  not  intended  that  it  should  be  so. 

"Well?"  Katherine  questioned  her. 

"I  have  never  been  the  wife  of  Conrad  Belknap," 
Roberta  replied  in  her  natural  voice,  and  smiling, 
"because,  as  far  as  I  know,  there  is  no  such  person. 
The  right  name  of  the  man  I  married  ten  years  ago, 
and  whom  you  know  as  Conrad  Belknap,  is  one  that  is 
remembered  in  the  neighborhood  of  your  Kentucky 
home.  I  had  supposed  that  Mr.  Harvard  would  men- 
tion it  when  he  told  you  the  rest  of  my  story,  although 
he  did  say  that  he  intended  not  to  talk  with  you  about 
it  until  after  I  had  done  so." 

"Mr.  Harvard  has  not  talked  with  me  about  you  at 
all,"  Katherine  said. 

"Then,  how " 

"No  matter  how.  We  will  leave  discussion  of  your 
personal  connection  with  things  that  have  been  hap- 
pening at  Myquest  until  later.  Just  now  I  want  you 
to  tell  me,  and  at  once,  how  I  can  communicate  with 
my  brother.  I  know  that  you  can  tell  me;  I  know 
that  you  must  tell  me.  I  know  that  you  met  him  in  the 
middle  of  Saturday  night,  under  the  box-elder  by  the 
lake.  I  saw  you  there  together.  I  saw  his  face,  after- 


THE  JINEE  ON  GUARD  287 

ward,  and  did  not  recognize  it.  I  assume  that  he  was 
disguised." 

"Mrs.  Harvard,  I " 

"Please  reply  to  my  question.  Where  is  my  brother, 
and  how  can  I  communicate  with  him?" 

"He  is  not  far  away,  Ka — Mrs.  Harvard.  He  is, 
in  a  sense,  watching  over  you,  even  now;  but — I  beg 
you  to  believe  me  when  I  state  positively  that  I  am 
acting  under  his  positive  and  imperative  instructions 
when  I  reply  to  the  first  part  of  your  question  by  say- 
ing that  I  cannot  tell  you  exactly  where  he  may  be 
found,  without  first  obtaining  his  consent.  You  would 
not  have  me  break  my  solemn  word  to  him?" 

"No,  but " 

"But  you  can  communicate  with  him,  if  you  will. 
I  can  get  any  message  to  him  that  you  wish." 

"Thank  you,"  Katherine  replied,  somewhat  coldly. 
"Please  inform  him  that  he  must  make  himself  known 
to  me,  and  let  me  speak  with  him,  alone,  at  once;  be- 
fore the  dinner  hour  to-morrow,  certainly.  Can  you 
do  that?  Can  you  communicate  with  him  before  you 
sleep  to-night?" 

"I  think  so.  I  will  try.  He — he  loves  you  very 
dearly,  I  know.  He  has  only  thought  that  for  the  sake 
of  all  concerned  you  should  not  know  of  his  nearness 
until — until  he  believed  the  hour  to  be  propitious." 

Katherine  melted. 

Suddenly — without  warning  of  her  intention — she 
opened  her  arms  and  folded  them  around  Roberta,  who 
started  back,  or  would  have  done  so  if  she  could,  be- 
cause of  her  surprise;  for  Katherine,  quite  uninten- 
tionally, but  because  of  the  intensity  of  her  feelings, 
had  thus  far  spoken,  and  preserved  a  demeanor,  of 
hauteur,  reserve,  and  qoldness. 

"I  know  part  of  your  story,  Roberta,"  Katherine 


288  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

said  in  a  more  kindly  tone,  while  she  held  her  in  that 
close  embrace.  "You  shall  tell  me  the  rest  of  it — your 
own  side  of  it — another  time.  But,  I  know  that  you 
love  Roderick;  I  know  that  you  have  not  hesitated  to 
make  great  sacrifices  to  protect  him  from  your  common 
enemy.  More  still,  although  I  have  been  aware  from 
the  beginning  that  you  were  associated  with  Conrad 
Belknap  in  some  inexplicable  way,  I  have  been  drawn 
to  you,  I  have  believed  in  you,  and  I  have  grown  to 
love  you." 

Thus,  we  will  leave  them  together ;  for  Roberta  would 
not  have  it  that  the  story  she  had  to  tell  should  wait. 

Everything  that  she  had  told  to  Bingham  Harvard 
she  repeated  to  Katherine  in  a  much  more  intimate  way 
— and  she  added  much  to  it,  of  a  personal  nature, 
which  there  had  been  neither  time,  inclination,  nor 
necessity  to  relate  to  him. 

Katherine,  in  all  respects  save  one,  gave  confidence 
for  confidence.  She  admitted  that  the  knowledge  she 
already  possessed  of  Roberta's  past  had  been  told  to 
her  by  Belknap,  and  she  confessed  that  she  had  assisted 
him  to  make  his  escape.  But  she  went  no  farther  than 
that.  She  said  nothing  about  the  Nest,  nor  did  she 
admit  that  she  knew  aught  of  Belknap's  intentions  or 
plans  after  his  departure. 

At  the  Nest,  Belknap  had  not  entirely  lost  his  equi- 
librium when  the  table  against  which  he  leaned,  and 
the  floor  under  it,  sank  beneath  him!  but  it  had  hap- 
pened so  suddenly,  and  with  such  entire  unexpected- 
ness, that  he  had  been  obliged  to  clutch  the  edge  of  the 
table  madly  with  his  fingers,  and  so  to  steady  himself, 
in  order  to  keep  his  upright  position. 

One  thinks  quickly  under  such  circumstances,  and 
bis  first  thought  had  been  that  Katherine  had  but 


THE  JINEE  ON  GUARD  289 

played  upon  his  rapt  eagerness  concerning  the  jewel, 
in  order  to  get  the  best  of  him  and  then  to  repudiate 
his  offer — and  him. 

His  amazement  when  she  called  down  to  him  that  she 
would  accept  his  proposition  and  would  keep  to  her 
promises  in  regard  to  it,  was  intense. 

He  would  have  replied  to  her  if  she  had  given  him 
time;  but  at  once  the  table,  and  the  two  or  three  feet 
of  flooring  around  it,  began  to  rise  toward  its  former 
position,  so  he  decided  to  wait  until  he  was  once  more 
face  to  face  with  her.  When,  however,  his  head  was 
again  above  the  level  of  the  floor,  he  saw  that  she  had 
gone,  that  the  doorway  to  the  outside  world  was  closed, 
and  that  he  was  again  alone. 

"What  a  woman !"  he  muttered  for  perhaps  the  hun- 
dredth time  since  he  had  been  in  the  chalet;  and  then 
again,  "What  a  woman !" 

How  fervently  he  wished  that  he  knew  the  secrets 
of  that  mysterious  house — or  some  of  them  at  least. 
But  he  had  already  convinced  himself  of  the  utter 
fruitlessness  of  searching  for  them. 

He  had  passed  hours  and  hours  at  that  task,  with 
absolutely  no  result ;  the  mysteries  of  the  marvelous 
mechanism  concealed  within  the  Swiss  chalet,  defied 
him. 

"But,"  he  told  himself,  "I  have  her  promise;  and 
she  will  keep  it." 

He  selected  a  book  and  tried  to  read,  but  having  so 
recently  dwelt  at  length,  and  in  words,  upon  his  pas- 
sionate longing  to  possess  the  Eye  of  Nadja,  it  ab- 
sorbed him,  and  he  could  not  take  his  mind  off  of  it. 

With  a  sudden  loss  of  temper  (which  he  sometimes 
indulged,  when  alone)  he  flung  the  book  angrily  from 
him  without  regard  to  where,  or  what,  it  migfci  strike; 


290  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

and  at  the  moment  he  bent  forward  and  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands  to  think. 

When,  ten  minutes  later,  he  lifted  his  head,  he  ut- 
tered a  sharp  exclamation  of  astonishment,  and  sprang 
to  his  feet  and  stared. 

Straight  ahead  of  him,  at  the  far  end  of  the  big 
room,  and  just  above  a  platform  that  extended  at  the 
top  of  a  short  flight  of  steps,  the  afternoon  sun  was 
streaming  into  the  chalet  through  a  wide  expanse  of 
plate-glass  window  from  over  which  the  steel  shutters 
had  been  magically  withdrawn. 

He  knew  what  had  happened.  The  book  that  he  had 
thrown — and  he  had  no  idea  where  it  had  struck — 
had  hit  against  and  operated  the  mechanism  of  that 
shutter. 

With  an  exclamation  of  joy  he  started  toward  the 
uncovered  window. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE  WISDOM   OF   LADY   KATE 

THE  window  out  of  which  Belknap  gazed  when  he 
had  mounted  to  the  platform,  overlooked  the  lake,  and 
was  directly  above  it — in  fact,  projected  over  it. 
Beneath  him  to  the  surface  of  the  water  he  judged  the 
distance  to  be  all  of  eighty  feet  or  more. 

The  window,  as  it  happened,  was  Katherine's  favor- 
ite eery;  she  loved  to  sit  there  to  read  and  enjoy  the 
view. 

But  it  was  not  the  view  that  Belknap  appreciated 
just  then. 

The  entire  shore  of  the  lake  was  spread  out  before 
him.  Across  it  he  could  see  the  boat-  and  bath-houses. 
Beyond  them,  through  vistas  which  have  already  been 
described,  the  great  house,  much  of  its  veranda,  and 
many  of  the  pathways  that  approached  it,  were  visible. 

While  he  looked  he  saw  Carruthers  step  out  upon  the 
platform  of  the  boat-house,  and  behind  him  came  Har- 
vard; and  he  also  saw  that  Carruthers,  as  if  he  had 
already  observed  the  unshuttered  window  of  the  chalet, 
made  some  remark  to  Harvard  which  called  his  atten- 
tion to  it. 

Belknap  dodged,  and  he  harbored  just  a  little  doubt 
in  his  mind  about  having  made  the  move  quick  enough 
to  escape  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  secret  service  operative. 

"Damn !"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  descended  the  few  steps 
to  the  floor  of  the  chalet. 

291 


292  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

He  heartily  wished  that  his  chance  shot  with  the 
book  had  not  found  the  mark  it  had — or  that  he  had 
watched  the  flight  of  the  book  when  he  cast  it  from  him 
so  that  he  might  search  more  understandingly  for  the 
hidden  spring. 

But,  regrets  were  unavailing;  they  were  bitter  re- 
grets, too,  for  he  began  to  feel  quite  sure  that  he  had 
been  seen  at  the  window — seen  anyhow,  whether  he 
had  been  recognized  or  not. 

Presently,  after  deep  thought,  he  told  himself,  aloud : 

"If  a  book,  thrown  in  anger,  can  find  out  one  of  the 
secrets  of  this  infernal  nest  of  mysteries,  I,  with  brains 
and  forethought  and  system,  and  with  care  and  cool- 
ness, must  surely  be  able  to  find  others." 

He  decided  then  and  there  that  he  would  begin  the 
search  anew,  and  that  he  would  not  abandon  it  until 
he  had  made  discoveries,  or  was  interrupted;  and  he 
began  by  drawing  plans  of  the  interior  of  the  room  on 
paper;  a  plan  of  the  floor,  others  for  each  wall-surface 
by  which  it  was  inclosed,  and  still  another  one  to  show 
the  position  of  each  article  of  furniture. 

Those  he  divided  into  squares,  and  each  one  of  the 
squares  into  smaller  ones;  and  he  systematically  num- 
bered each  of  the  large  squares,  and  lettered  the  small 
ones  inside  of  them. 

That  done,  he  began  the  search,  checking  off  each 
lettered  square  as  he  progressed,  and  obliterating  each 
large  square  as  he  finished  with  it. 

"It's  some  task,"  he  told  himself,  "and  it  will  take 
time;  but  I  believe  that  it  is  bound  to  win.** 

Whether  it  did  or  not,  remains  to  be  seen. 

Carruthers  did  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  face  at  the  win- 
dow of  the  chalet,  but  he  was  unable  to  recognize  it. 
Like  the  other  guests  at  Myquest,  he  was  under  the 


THE  WISDOM  OF  LADY  KATE          293 

impression  that  the  Swiss  chalet  at  the  top  of  the  bluff 
was  tightly  closed  and  was  rarely,  if  ever,  used. 

But  he  was  a  secret  service  operative,  and  he  was 
hot  on  the  trail  of  a  man  who,  as  he  confidently  be- 
lieved, was  in  hiding  somewhere  near.  The  uncovered 
window — which  he  remembered  had  been  shuttered 
closely  the  last  time  he  saw  it — interested  him  in- 
stantly. 

"What  better  place,"  he  asked  himself,  "could  field- 
ing find  in  which  to  hide,  always  provided  that  he 
could  get  inside  of  it."  Carruthers  had  already  in- 
vestigated the  surroundings  and  approaches  and  the 
exterior  of  the  chalet  sufficiently  to  convince  him  that 
it  was  practically  inaccessible. 

He  had  been  discussing  with  Harvard  the  possible 
hiding  places  that  Belknap  might  have  found  upon  the 
estate,  when  he  made  the  discovery  of  the  open  window. 
At  once  he  called  Bing's  attention  to  it.  But  he  said 
nothing  about  his  momentary  glimpse  of  a  face  be- 
yond it. 

"I  was  under  the  impression  that  the  little  building 
on  the  bluff  was  not  in  use,"  was  what  he  said.  "Some- 
body has  been  there  since  this  morning,  however. 
Look." 

Harvard  was  already  looking  while  Carruthers 
talked.  He  was  also  surprised  to  see  the  unshuttered 
window,  for  Katherine  was  always  careful  to  keep 
everything  tightly  closed  at  the  Nest,  whenever  there 
were  guegts  at  Myquest ;  and  Katherine,  as  he  hap- 
pened to  know,  was  not  then  at  the  Nest.  He  had  seen 
her  enter  the  house  when  she  went  to  Roberta's  room. 

"Wait  a  moment.  I  will  be  back  presently,"  he  said 
to  Carruthers ;  and  he  went  into  the  boat-house,  to  one 
of  the  house-telephone  extensions,  where  he  asked  that 
Mrs.  Harvard  be  summoned  to  the  phone  at  once. 


294  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Katherine  had  just  left  Roberta  and  gone  into  her 
own  room  when  the  telephone  rang. 

"Have  you  been  at  the  Nest  this  afternoon?"  Bing 
asked  her. 

"Yes.     Why  do  you  ask?"  she  answered. 

"You  have  left  a  window  uncovered.  It  is  attracting 
attention.  Carruthers  has  just  seen  it.  You  had 
better  go  back  and  close  it.  That  is  all,"  he  told  her, 
and  hung  up. 

Katherine  was  just  a  trifle  pale  when  she  replaced 
the  receiver. 

She  knew  that  she  had  not  opened  the  shutter,  and 
that  therefore  Belknap  must  have  discovered  the  spring 
that  operated  it — wherefore,  if  he  could  do  that  much, 
it  was  possible,  even  probable,  that  he  could  accomplish 
still  more. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  return  to  the  Nest  at  once ; 
but  she  considered. 

"Why  do  that?"  she  asked  herself.  "The  window 
has  already  been  seen.  To  close  it  again  now  would 
be  to  add  more  to  the  suspicion,  if  any,  that  has  al- 
ready been  suggested. 

Then  it  was  that  she  made  another  decision:  she 
would  go  back  to  Belknap  in  the  evening,  as  soon  as 
she  could  escape  from  her  guests  after  dinner,  and  she 
would  tell  him  that  he  should  have  his  liberty  to  un- 
dertake the  theft  of  the  Eye  of  Nadja — and  she  smiled 
at  the  thought — that  same  night  or  not  at  all. 

The  decision  made,  she  lost  no  time  in  seeking  Mme. 
Savage,  who,  she  knew,  would  have  lately  awakened 
from  her  daily  afternoon  nap. 

Katherine  had  promised  Belknap  that  she  would 
give  no  sort  of  warning  to  anybody  of  his  intentions, 
and  also  that  she  would  not  mention  or  write  the  name 
of  the  coveted  jewel.  But  she  had  formed  a  plan, 


THE  WISDOM  OF  LADY  KATE          295 

nevertheless,  before  she  gave  her  consent  to  his  wild 
scheme,  by  which  she  believed  she  could  defeat  him  at  his 
own  game,  and  prevent  the  theft. 

"Madame"  she  said,  when  she  had  been  admitted 
to  the  old  lady's  room,  "I  read  a  story  long  ago  that 
was  called  'The  Jewel  Worshiper.'  It  has  given  me  an 
idea  for  the  entertainment  of  my  guests.  I  want  to 
reproduce  the  scheme  of  that  story  in  a  tableau,  and 
I  can  do  so  if  you  will  help  me  out — you,  and  Miriam 
Saulsbury,  and  two  or  three  of  the  others.  Will  you  do 
it?" 

"Surely,  my  dear.  What  is  it  that  you  want?" 
madame  replied. 

"I  want  your  jewels — all  of  them.  The  most  beauti- 
ful ones,  and  the  rarest  one  you  possess,  particularly ; 
and  Mrs.  Saulsbury's  pear-shaped  diamonds ;  and 
Betty  Clancy's  wonderful  pearls;  and — and  all  that  I 
can  get  hold  of." 

"Why,  of  course.  But  what  in  the  world  are  you 
going  to  do  with  them,  my  dear?" 

"You  won't  tell?"  Katherine  asked,  demurely. 

"Certainly  not." 

"I  will  be  the  jewel-worshiper,  myself.  I  will  be  seen 
in  a  cabinet  that  is  lined  with  black  velvet  which  will 
be  ablaze  with  the  jewels,  on  my  knees,  worshiping 
them.  That  is  all  I  can  tell  you  now.  But  I  may 
have  them?" 

"Surely.  Come  and  get  them  whenever  you  want 
them,  dear." 

"But  I  want  them  now.  Let  me  see ;  there  is  the  one 
you  thought  the  burglars  tried  to  get  the  other  night ; 

and  there  is "  She  paused  a  moment,  then  added : 

"But  I  don't  suppose  you  would  care  to  let  me  use 
that  one." 

"Do  you  mean  the " 


296  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

"Yes,  yes,"  Katherine  interrupted  quickly.  "We 
need  not  name  it.  It  always  gives  me  shudders  when- 
ever I  think  of  it." 

Mme.  Savage  laughed. 

"Of  course  you  can  have  that,  too,"  she  said.  "Bend 
nearer,  my  dear,  and  let  me  whisper  while  I  tell  you 
where  it  is.  You  will  be  surprised,  but  I  always  hide 
it  in  outlandish  places  where  nobody  would  ever  think 
of  looking  for  it.  It  is — "  she  whispered  close  to 
Katherine's  ear — "inside  of  that  scrubby  old  cane  that 
I  always  carry  when  I  go  for  a  walk,  and  put  away  in 
the  corner  of  the  music-room  behind  the  piano  when  I 
return.  Bring  the  cane  to  me,  dear,  and  I'll  show  you 
how  to  open  it.  What  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  hiding 
place?  Eh,  my  dear?" 

Katherine  brought  the  cane  hurriedly,  with  a  large, 
round  knob  at  its  top. 

Mme.  Savage  first  loosened  the  ferrule  of  the  cane 
by  unscrewing  it;  then  she  turned  it  end  for  end  and 
lifted  off  the  knob  which  she  opened  by  touching  a 
spring  at  the  bottom  which  had  been  concealed  inside 
of  the  cane.  From  the  hollow  space  she  took  an  ob- 
ject that  was  wrapped  in  foil  and  tissue  paper.  That, 
she  placed  in  Katherine's  hand. 

"There  it  is,  dear,"  she  said.  "Take  it.  Keep  it 
as  long  as  you  please,  only  be  careful  where  you  put 
it  after  you  show  it  in  the  tableau.  Stand  the  cane 
over  there  in  the  corner,"  she  added  as  she  readjusted 
it. 

"Oh,  no,"  Katherine  replied,  smiling.  "I  will  put  it 
back  in  the  music-room  where  I  found  it." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

EODERICK  AND  JULIUS 

BELKNAP'S  systematic  effort  to  discover  some  of  the 
secrets  of  the  Nest  was  not  without  results.  Many  of 
the  hidden  buttons  and  concealed  springs  and  levers, 
practicable  screws,  nail-heads,  ornamental-work,  and 
what-not  of  all  descriptions,  could  not  defy  the  inch- 
by-inch  search  for  them  that  he  made — and  the  very 
fact  that  Katherine  delayed  her  visit  to  him  after  the 
discovery  of  the  opened  shutter  afforded  him  oppor- 
tunity. Also,  he  worked  in  haste,  although  thor- 
oughly, fearing  that  the  discovered  window  would  bring 
her  quickly  to  the  Nest. 

By  the  time  that  he  was  hungry,  and  felt  the  neces- 
sity of  preparing  something  to  eat,  he  had  accom- 
plished much — although  it  must  be  admitted  that  his 
discoveries  did  not  take  him  as  deeply  into  the  mys- 
teries of  the  strange  house  as  he  could  have  wished. 

There  were  mechanisms  that  he  sought  which  he 
could  not  find ;  and  he  found  several  that  he  had  not 
sought.  He  was  as  much  in  the  dark  as  ever  concern- 
ing the  openings  in  the  floor,  and  the  operation  of  the 
door  of  entrance;  but  he  did  know  the  secret  of  the 
Nuremberg  chair. 

He  decided  that,  when  she  came  to  him  again,  if  she 
were  inclined  to  be  fractious,  as  he  expressed  it  to  him- 
self, he  might  induce  her  to  sit  upon  the  chair,  or  push 
her  into  it,  and  so  catch  her  as  he  had  been  caught. 
Then — well,  then  he  could  make  his  own  terms. 

297 


298  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

He  was  no  wiser  than  before  in  regard  to  getting  out 
of  the  house,  unless,  indeed,  he  should  decide  to  smash 
the  plate-glass  observation  window  and  make  the  leap 
of  eighty  feet  or  more  to  the  water  under  it. 

But  that  was  a  matter  for  future  consideration — if 
it  should  become  necessary. 

Meantime,  as  soon  as  he  had  eaten,  he  returned  to 
the  search,  hoping  and  believing  that  he  would  uncover 
more  secrets  before  Katherine  appeared. 

Black  Julius  became  more  at  ease  after  his  talk  with 
Katherine  in  the  wood. 

His  discovery  that  she  was  not  only  cognizant  of 
Belknap's  escape  from  the  house,  but  had  actually 
given  the  man  her  personal  assistance,  had  troubled  him 
so  profoundly  that  it  had  almost  (though  not  quite) 
obliterated  the  immeasurable  joy  of  another  one  (which 
had  seemed  unbelievable  and  impossible),  that  he  had 
made  that  same  night. 

It  was  when  he  was  brought  face  to  face  with  Car- 
ruthers  in  Bingham  Harvard's  den  at  the  time  of  the 
conference. 

The  instincts  of  the  negro  amounted  to  a  sixth  sense. 

He  might,  from  a  little  distance,  have  looked  upon 
Carruthers's  face,  watched  his  motions,  and  otherwise 
have  observed  him,  without  interest;  but,  brought  into 
actual  contact  with  him,  touching  his  hand,  and  thus 
the  point  where  he  could  "feel"  his  presence,  he  had 
sensed  rather  than  seen  through  the  shell  of  disguise 
that  Carruthers  wore. 

Black  Julius's  instinct  was  like  the  scent  of  a  favor- 
ite dog.  It  knew. 

He  had  "toted"  Roderick  Maxwilton,  and  petted 
him  and  played  with  him  from  the  time  he  was  born  into 
the  world,  just  as  he  had  served  Katherine;  and  he 


RODERICK  AND  JULIUS  299 

had  been  almost  as  devoted  to  him,  until  little  Kath- 
erine  came.  His  positive  recognition  of  Roderick  Max- 
wilton  in  the  person  of  Carruthers  of  the  secret  service, 
was  therefore  instantaneous. 

Nobody  save  Roderick  himself  had  noticed  the  agi- 
tation of  Julius  at  the  time;  but  he  had  known — as 
he  had  also  believed  would  be  the  case  when  they  were 
brought  face  to  face — that  Julius  recognized  him. 

Thus  it  happened  that  as  soon  as  it  was  both  pos- 
sible and  convenient,  Roderick,  otherwise  Carruthers 
(and  otherwise  also,  Brainard)  went  to  Julius's  cot- 
tage near  the  garage  to  see  him  and  talk  with  him. 
That  happened  soon  after  his  discovery  of  the  un- 
shuttered window  of  the  chalet. 

Julius  did  not  return  to  his  cottage  at  once  to  wait 
for  Katherine,  as  she  had  directed.  There  were  duties 
that  he  had  to  perform  first,  and  so  it  was  a  little  more 
than  an  hour  afterward  when  he  entered  it,  and  there 
discovered  Roderick  awaiting  him. 

Roderick  (we  will  call  him  so  for  the  purposes  of 
this  interview)  left  the  chair  whereon  he  had  been 
seated  and  waiting,  the  instant  Julius  appeared. 

For  the  moment  he  was  the  boy  again;  he  was  the 
lad,  and  Julius  was  the  faithful  servant  of  his  house 
whom  he  loved  and  trusted.  And  to  Black  Julius  the 
impulse  was  precisely  the  same,  although  reversed. 

Roderick  took  a  step  forward  and  stretched  out 
both  hands.  Julius  grasped  them  with  his  own,  and 
for  a  time  the  two  were  speechless  before  one  another, 
and,  oddly  enough,  it  seemed  as  if  Roderick  was  the 
more  greatly  moved  of  the  two. 

It  was  Julius  who  spoke  first. 

"Mr.  Roddy !  Mr.  Roddy !  Why,  Mis-tuh  Rod-dy, 
it  don't  seem  mo'n  the  day  befo'  yisterday  since  I  was 
totin'  yo'  'roun'  with  these  old  han's  uh  mine;  it  sut- 


300  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

tinly  don't,  Mr.  Roddy."  Julius  always  lapsed  into 
the  soft  dialect  of  his  youth  when  he  was  greatly 
moved. 

"Dear  old  Julius !"  Roderick  replied.  "You  knew 
me  the  moment  you  saw  me  last  night,  didn't  you?" 

"I  suttinly  did,  Mr.  Roddy." 

"Then  you  never  believed  that  I  was  dead  and 
buried,  did  you?" 

"I  know'd  you  wasn't,  suh.     Mis'  Kitten  told  me." 

"But,  Julius,  even  Mis'  Kitten  didn't  know  me.  How 
was  it  that  you  did?" 

"I  dunno,  suh.  I  reckon  mebby  I  smelt  you,  jes' 
like  a  houn'-dog  would  do  it.  I  didn't  see  no  scar,  or 
no  growed-up  man,  when  I  looked  at  yo'  las'  night. 
I  didn't  see  anything  at  all  but  jes'  the  little  boy 
Roddy.  Uhuh!  'Twouldn't  made  no  difference  about 
it,  neither,  if  I  hadn't  been  told  that  the  scar  wasn't 
real.  If  it  had  been  real  sure  enough,  I'd  'a'  know'd 
you  just  the  same." 

He  stopped,  and  when  he  spoke  again  his  voice  had 
a  note  of  stern  displeasure  in  it,  as  if  he  were,  in  real- 
ity, speaking  to  the  lad  of  years  agone,  and  chiding 
him. 

"Why  haven't  you  told  Mis'  Kitten  about  your- 
self, sir?  Don't  you  know  that  she's  been  eatin'  her 
poor  little  heart  out  for  you  all  these  yeahs?  Why, 
sir,  only  just  a  little  minute  ago  I  was  talkin'  to  her, 
and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  myself  from  blurtin* 
it  all  out.  Why  ain't  you  done  told  her,  Mr.  Roddy, 
befo'  now?" 

"Never  mind  about  that,  Julius.  I  shall  tell  her 
very  soon." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Now,  Julius,  I  want  to  question  you  on  another 
matter." 


RODERICK  AND  JULIUS  301 

"Yes,  sir."  Julius  was  instantly  on  his  guard,  for 
he  guessed  what  the  next  question  might  be,  and  he 
had  no  idea  of  betraying  Katherine's  confidence,  even 
to  her  brother. 

"That  fellow  Belknap  must  be  hiding  somewhere 
within  the  bounds  of  the  estate,"  Roderick  continued. 
"I  know  that  he  could  not  slip  through  the  meshes  of 
the  net  that  I  have  spread  for  him,  and  escape.  There- 
fore, he  is  somewhere  near  here.  Now,  you  know  the 
place  probably  as  well  as  you  know  the  old  place  at 
home,  so  I  want  you  to  think  hard,  and  then  tell  me 
of  all  the  possible  hiding  places  near  us  that  you  can 
remember." 

"Well,  sir,"  Julius  replied  thoughtfully,  and  his 
face  was  like  a  mask,  "I  can't  just  say  that  I  do  know 
of  a  place  where  he  could  hide — an'  keep  hid.  I  sut- 
tinly  don't." 

"I  have  been  searching,  Julius,  and  my  men  have 
been  searching,  all  day — all  the  time  since  Belknap 
disappeared.  They  have  not  been  able  to  obtain  a 
trace  of  the  man." 

"No,  sir,  I  reckon  they  ain't." 

"But— I  think  that  I  have." 

"Yes,  sir.     Mebby  so." 

"I  have  got  a  notion,  Julius,  that  he  has  found  a 
way  to  get  inside  of  that  little  house  on  the  bluff 
at  the  end  of  the  dam.  What  do  you  think  about 
that?" 

"I  don't  think  anything  about  it,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 

"  'Cause  they  can't  nobody  get  inside  of  that  house 
on  the  bluff  'lessen  Mis'  Kitten  lets  'em  in.  That's  her 
own  'special  nest,  Mr.  Roddy,  an'  nobody  ever  goes 
into  it  but  jest  her  own  self.  He  couldn't  get  into  it 
unless  she  let  him  in,  an'  Mis'  Kitten  wouldn't  do  that, 


302  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

would  she — 'specially  when  she  wouldn't  let  me  into  it, 
or  Phemie,  or  even  Mr.  Harvard  himself?  No,  sir!" 

"One  of  the  windows  has  been  uncovered  within  the 
last  half  hour,  Julius,  and  I  saw  somebody  peering  out 
of  it." 

"Then  you  saw  your  own  sister,  Mr.  Roddy." 

"No,  Julius,  I  know  better  than  that.  It's  my  pro- 
fession to  know  things." 

"Then  you  saw  double,  that's  all.  You  just  thought 
mebby  he  might  be  there,  an'  so  you  thought  you  saw 
him  there,"  Julius  insisted. 

"Possibly,"  Roderick  replied;  but  he  was  more  than 
ever  convinced  that  he  was  correct  about  it. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

FULFILLING  THE  COMPACT 

THERE  was  yet  another  person  who  was  both  puzzled 
and  troubled  in  regard  to  the  Nest,  and  that  person 
was  Bingham  Harvard,  one  time  alias  the  Night  Wind. 

For  Bing  had  seen  the  face  at  the  window  the  in- 
stant he  stepped  his  foot  upon  the  boat-house  plat- 
form, and  he  knew  that  the  face  was  not  Katherine's. 

True,  he  had  not  seen  it  plainly  enough  to  recog- 
nize it,  but  there  was  nevertheless  not  the  slightest 
doubt  in  his  mind  concerning  the  identity  of  it. 

It  had  been  Belknap's  face,  of  course,  and  Belknap 
could  not  have  found  entry  to  the  Nest  without  the 
personal  assistance  of  Katherine,  therefore  she  was 
hiding  him. 

It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  succeeded 
in  controlling  himself  so  that  his  companion,  Car- 
ruthers,  might  not  see  the  shock  he  had  received,  and 
he  found  that  he  faced  even  a  greater  difficulty  when 
he  attempted  to  reason  out  to  his  own  satisfaction  why 
Katherine  should  have  consented  to  such  an  act. 

Try  as  he  might,  he  could  find  only  one  possible 
solution  of  the  problem,  and  that  was  that  Belknap 
had  succeeded  in  so  working  upon  Katherine's  sym- 
pathies that  she  had  been  prevailed  upon  to  help  him 
to  escape.  That  Katherine — his  wife — Lady  Kate  of 
the  Police — peerless  and  fearless  Katherine — was 
afraid  of  the  man,  and  had  been  forced  through  fear 
of  him  to  do  what  she  had  done,  Harvard  did  not  for 

303 


304          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

a  moment  believe.  "And,"  he  told  himself,  "in  her  own 
good  time  she  will  tell  me  all  about  it." 

So,  in  a  sense,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  dis- 
missed the  thought  of  it ;  or  tried  to  do  so. 

But,  just  the  same,  he  did  not  intend  that  Conrad 
Belknap  should  get  away,  even  if  it  were  Katherine's 
wish  that  he  should,  and  so  he  set  himself  to  watch. 

Not  to  watch  Katherine !  Do  not  for  a  moment 
suppose  that !  But  to  watch  for  Belknap's  appearance 
when  he  should  be  let  out  of  the  Nest  by  Katherine,  to 
make  his  getaway  from  the  vicinity  of  Myquest;  and 
to  see  to  it  that  he  did  not  make  his  escape.  Not  to 
lay  hands  upon  the  man  himself,  but  to  dog  him, 
and  follow  him,  and  keep  him  within  reach,  until  he 
should  fall  into  the  hands  of  one  or  more  of  the  watch- 
ing sleuths  who  were  on  his  trail. 

Katherine  he  would  permit  to  go  and  come,  as  she 
pleased,  and  he  would  not  let  her  know  what  he  knew 
until  she  got  ready  to  tell  him  all  about  it ;  but  all  the 
same  he  would  not  stand  passively  near  and  permit 
that  crook  of  a  thousand  crimes  to  impose  upon  her 
sympathies,  and  thus  escape  the  consequences  of  his 
errors. 

That  being  settled  in  his  mind,  he  felt  better;  quite 
at  ease,  in  fact. 

Katherine  was  quite  the  life  of  the  party  at  the  din- 
ner table  that  evening;  so  much  so  that  her  husband 
regarded  her  with  well-concealed  astonishment,  and 
Carruthers,  who  had  arrived  at  not  unsimilar  conclu- 
sions, with  interest.  Both  men,  husband  and  brother, 
were  at  fault  in  their  reasonings — yet  Katherine  had 
her  own  reasons  for  her  gaiety. 

Why  should  she  not  have  been  gay? 

She  had  obtained  possession  of  the  Eye  of  Nadja, 
And  had  concealed  it,  without  breaking  any  of  her 


FULFILLING  THE  COMPACT  305 

promises  to  Belknap  in  any  sense  of  the  word.  She 
had  restored  the  "scrubby  old  cane"  to  its  accustomed 
place  behind  the  piano  in  the  music-room,  and  the  bulb 
at  its  top  was  not  empty,  either;  it  contained  a  nice 
round  pebble,  wrapped  in  the  same  foil  and  tissue  that 
had  contained  the  wonderful  ruby  with  an  emerald 
buried  in  the  middle  of  it.  Belknap  might  find  the  cane 
if  he  chose,  for  she  did  not  doubt  that  Belknap  had 
worked  out  the  secret  of  the  ruby's  hiding  place  by 
some  mysterious  process  of  his  thieving  intelligence — 
he  might  make  his  escape,  if  he  could,  and  take  the  old 
and  worthless  cane  with  him.  She  would  set  him  free 
that  very  night,  and  she  would  be  well  rid  of  him. 

True,  when  he  found  that  he  had  been  fooled,  he 
might  forget  his  promise  to  send  her  the  documentary 
evidence  that  would  establish  her  brother's  innocence, 
but,  if  such  evidence  was  in  existence,  there  would  be 
other  ways  to  find  it.  She  would,  later,  consult  Mr. 
Carruthers  on  that  point,  for  she  had  taken  a  great 
and  unaccountable  liking  to  that  same  Carruthers  who 
somehow  reminded  her  of  something,  or  somebody,  or 
— she  knew  that  she  liked  him,  and  believed  that  she 
could  trust  him;  and  he  was  an  expert  operative  of  the 
secret  service  who  were  the  best  detectives  in  the  world. 

That  evening  was  not  a  pleasant  one  outside,  after 
dinner.  Fog  had  blown  in  from  the  ocean,  and  a  gentle 
rain,  without  wind,  was  falling.  The  guests  remained 
indoors.  The  absence  of  Belknap  was  commented  on, 
and  regretted.  The  atmosphere,  even  within  the  house, 
was  surcharged  with  unrest,  and  the  members  of  the 
party,  one  after  another,  discovered  that  they  had  let- 
ters to  write,  or  books  to  read,  or  complained  of  head- 
aches, or  otherwise  found  excuses  to  seek  their  several 
rooms  very  early. 


806          LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

Bing  was  himself  among  the  first  to  find  one,  and  go, 
and  he  took  Clancy  with  him.  Carruthers  disappeared 
soon  after  dinner.  Betty  yawned  several  times  with- 
out concealment,  and  departed,  and  so  on,  until  Kath- 
erine,  a  little  past  ten,  found  herself  alone  with  Ro- 
berta— and  the  trouble  was  that  Roberta  seemed  in- 
clined to  more  confidences;  seemed  eager  for  another 
heart-to-heart  talk  with  Katherine.  But  Katherine 
found  a  way  to  avoid  even  that. 

"Roberta,"  she  said,  when  they  were  alone,  "I  wish 
very  much  that  you  would  take  the  daguerreotype  of 
Mrs.  Clancy's  great-grandmother  that  you  still  have 
in  your  possession,  to  my  father.  You  will  find  him  in 
the  library,  reading.  I  want  you  to  ask  him  to  help 
you  to  work  out  the  puzzle  of  your  likeness  to  her.  He 
can  do  it." 

Thus  Katherine  was  free  to  go  to  the  Nest  when- 
ever she  chose — and  she  decided  to  go  at  once. 

Would  she  have  been  disturbed,  do  you  suppose,  if 
she  had  guessed  that  her  husband,  having  taken  Tom 
Clancy  into  his  confidence  and  secured  his  aid,  had 
taken  Tom  with  him,  and  gone  already  to  a  post  of 
observation  from  whence  any  person  who  entered  or 
departed  from  the  Nest  could  be  seen? 

Would  she  have  been  disturbed  if  she  had  known 
that  Carruthers  and  several  of  his  men  had  drawn  a 
cordon  around  the  house  and  grounds  of  Myquest 
through  which,  as  they  confidently  believed,  no  person 
could  penetrate? 

It  is  to  be  doubted  if  she  would  have  cared  a  hang 
about  them  if  she  had  known  both  circumstances.  They 
were  not  there  because  of  any  betrayal  by  her.  It 
could  not  matter,  and  she  did  not  care,  what  might 
happen  to  Belknap  after  he  left  the  Nest.  That  was 


FULFILLING  THE  COMPACT  307 

up  to  him.  More  than  likely  she  would  have  gone  on 
her  way  unconcerned  even  if  a  thousand  pairs  of  eyes 
had  been  watching,  and  she  had  known  the  fact. 

It  has  been  said  that  because  of  the  opened  shutter 
at  the  Nest,  Katherine  was  on  her  guard  lest  Belknap, 
having  discovered  that  secret,  had  likewise  uncovered 
others ;  so,  when  she  did  approach  the  chalet,  she  was 
ready  for  any  emergency — for  there  were  some  ap- 
pliances there  which  she  knew  he  could  not  find. 

But  she  was  in  no  wise  prepared  for  what  she  saw 
when  she  got  there.  Her  extreme  caution  in  approach- 
ing and  entering  had  been  entirely  unnecessary;  and, 
after  she  was  safely  inside  and  the  door  was  closed,  she 
may  be  forgiven  for  laughter. 

Belknap  had  discovered  another  one  of  the  mys- 
teries of  the  Nest,  for,  over  against  the  great  stone 
fireplace,  within  a  network  of  steel  wires  that  extended 
from  beneath  the  granite  shelf  straight  out  over  him 
and  down  in  front  of,  and  at  either  side  of  him,  he  was 
as  securely  caged  and  helpless  as  ever  any  wild  beast 
in  a  menagerie  has  been. 

And  the  joke  of  it  was,  the  steel  network  of  wires 
had  never  been  intended  for  a  trap!  It  was  no  more 
and  no  less  than  a  fire-screen;  but,  like  almost  every 
mechanical  contrivance  in  the  chalet,  it  was  operated 
by  touching  a  button.  And  that  particular  button 
could  be  easily  found,  for  it  was  exactly  like  the  one 
that  Katherine  had  shown  to  him  at  the  opposite  end 
of  the  shelf  beneath  the  little  idol. 

Belknap  was  more  crestfallen  than  angry.  He  was 
too  glad  of  Katherine's  arrival  to  be  angry. 

"You  have  got  yourself  into  a  nice  fix,"  she  told 
him.  "You  should  have  stood  beyond  the  end  of  the 
shelf  when  you  touched  the  button  which  lowers  the 


308  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

screen ;  not  at  the  middle  of  it.  Did  it  hit  you  on  the 
head  and  hurt  you  when  it  shot  out  and  dropped  into 
place?" 

"It  did,"  he  replied.    "Will  you  kindly  let  me  out?" 

"In  a  moment.  I  have  something  to  propose  to  you 
first." 

"I  think  that  I'll  agree  to  almost  anything  after  this 
experience,"  he  said  with  a  grin.  "Anything  save 
abandoning  Nadja's  Eye." 

"Will  you  accept  your  liberty  to-night,  instead  of 
waiting  longer?" 

"Yes." 

"It  is  storming  outside,  and  everybody  at  the  house 
has  retired.  Will  you  go  earlier  than  two  o'clock?" 

"I  will  go  now,  if  you  like,  if  it  is  true  that  all  the 
guests  have  gone  to  their  rooms,"  he  replied. 

Katherine  was  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  then  she 
said: 

"It  is  only  fair  that  I  should  warn  you  of  something, 
Mr.  Belknap.  I  am  convinced  that  Myquest  is 
watched." 

"As  to  that" — he  snapped  his  fingers — "so  am  I.  I 
will  take  care  of  that  part  of  it." 

"Very  good."  She  stepped  to  the  end  of  the  shelf 
and  released  him. 

As  he  stepped  free  she  moved  swiftly  across  the 
room,  and,  as  if  by  magic,  the  door  swung  open  while 
she  walked,  and  he  was  not  able  to  see  how  she  did  it. 
At  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  she  stopped  and 
faced  him. 

"Go,"  she  said.  "The  way  is  open.  I  have  kept 
all  of  my  promises  to  you ;  I  expect  that  you  are  still 
man  enough  to  keep  yours  to  me." 

"I  will,"  he  said.     "May  I " 


FULFILLING  THE  COMPACT  309 

"No.  You  may  do  nothing  more.  You  may  not 
address  me  again ;  otherwise,  I  will  relent.  Go." 

He  went. 

Katherine  relapsed  upon  a  chair  as  soon  as  the 
doorway  had  closed  after  him. 


CHAPTER  XL 

BELKNAP'S  PKEPABED  GETAWAY 

IT  was  exactly  twelve  minutes,  according  to  Bingham 
Harvard's  watch,  after  Katherine  entered  the  Nest, 
when  Conrad  Belknap  came  out  of  it. 

He  descended  the  first  steps  swiftly,  was  lost  sight 
of  along  the  winding  path  among  the  boulders,  could  be 
seen  again  in  his  descent  of  the  second  stairs,  and  then 
— to  the  astonishment  of  those  who  watched — he 
started  rapidly  toward  the  house. 

They  followed — and  therefore  they  did  not  see 
Katherine  when  she  came  out  from  the  Nest  ten  minutes 
later,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  directed  her 
course  through  the  wood  toward  Julius's  cottage.  She 
knew  that  Julius  would  be  awaiting  her,  because  she  had 
told  him  to  wait. 

Belknap  ascended  the  steps  to  the  veranda  boldly. 
The  hour  was  still  early.  If  he  should  encounter 
one  of  the  guests — well,  he  had  just  returned;  that 
would  be  all.  He  knew  the  methods  of  secret  service 
men,  and  did  not  believe  that  Carruthers's  errand  at 
Myquest  was  generally  known. 

He  encountered  nobody.  The  house  had  not  been 
closed  up,  nor  the  lights  extinguished.  He  entered 
the  music-room  at  one  of  the  windows. 

As  directly  as  the  needle  of  a  compass  points  north, 
he  went  to  the  corner  behind  the  piano  and  secured  the 
"scrubby  old  cane." 

310 


BELKNAP'S  PREPARED  GETAWAY      311 

He  lifted  it,  examined  it  attentively,  worked  at  the 
knob  on  top,  found  it  secure,  tried  the  ferrule,  and 
loosened  it  as  far  as  it  would  unscrew.  Then  he  tried 
the  knob  again,  and  opened  it. 

He  turned  white  to  the  lips  when  he  discovered  the 
object  wrapped  in  foil  and  tissue  inside.  He  extracted 
it.  He  held  it  worshipfully  in  the  hollow  of  one  hand 
and  stared  at  it.  His  other  hand  moved  as  if  to  un- 
wind the  wrappings,  and  stopped.  He  put  the  object 
that  was  wrapped  in  foil  and  tissue  into  his  pocket. 

After  that  he  appeared  to  be  considering  his  next 
move;  he  was,  if  the  watchers  had  but  known  it.  He 
was  thinking  that  he  would  like  to  have  one  more 
interview  with  Roberta  before  he  went  away;  but  he 
decided  against  it. 

He  went  out  of  the  music-room  like  a  flash.  It  was 
wonderful  how  quickly  he  could  move  when  he  wanted 
to — like  a  cat,  or  any  other  predatory  animal — 
naturally. 

The  two  watchers  lost  sight  of  him  then,  and  could 
not  follow.  They  had  thought  that  he  would  leave  the 
house  by  the  way  he  entered  it — but  Cranshaw  fielding, 
otherwise  Conrad  Belknap,  was  far  too  wise  for  that 
sort  of  thing. 

"We  have  lost  him,"  Tom  Clancy  said. 

"Go  around  to  the  rear,  Tom,"  Bing  replied,  and 
darted  away  without  imparting  his  own  intention. 

Harvard,  as  it  happened,  having  so  often  been  in 
the  position  of  fugitive  himself,  presaged  Belknap's 
movements  by  what  he  would  have  done  himself  under 
like  circumstances,  and  his  ideas  were  well  assumed. 
He  went  to  the  rose  bower,  from  which  he  could  watch 
the  side  entrance. 

Belknap  appeared  at  last,  moving  cautiously.  He 
darted  among  the  shrubbery,  and  kept  himself  amid  the 


312  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

deepest  shadows;  but  Harvard  had  seen  him  lift  his 
head  and  point,  as  a  hunting-dog  points,  in  the  di- 
rection of  his  course. 

Harvard  caught  sight  of  him  again  as  he  went  out 
upon  the  platform  at  the  boat-house. 

Belknap  secured  a  paddle  and  lifted  a  canoe  into 
the  water.  He  got  into  it  and  paddled  out  upon  the 
lake,  making  his  way  directly  toward  the  dam.  If  it 
had  been  possible  to  approach  the  Nest  by  that  route, 
Harvard  would  have  thought  that  he  was  returning 
to  the  chalet. 

He  was  not.  He  paddled  directly  to  the  dam  at  the 
opposite  end  from  the  Nest,  and  Harvard,  running 
like  a  hare,  followed  along  the  shore  of  the  lake.  But 
when  Bing  Harvard  got  near  enough  to  the  dam  he 
could  see  only  an  empty  canoe  that  was  hugged  against 
it. 

"What  the  dickens "  he  began  to  ask  himself, 

but  before  he  completed  the  self-asked  question  he  had 
thrown  off  his  coat,  vest,  and  shoes,  and  was  in  the 
water. 

He  swam  quickly  to  the  canoe  where  it  was  hugged 
against  the  dam — and  then  he  discovered  that  three  big 
spikes  had  been  driven  securely  into  a  block  of  wood 
which,  in  its  turn,  had  been  ingeniously  wedged  into 
the  masonry  of  the  dam  itself ;  and  that  a  hemp  rope  no 
larger  than  a  clothes-line  was  knotted  around  the 
spikes — a  knotted  rope,  to  facilitate  descent,  Bing  had 
no  doubt. 

It  was  Belknap's  prepared  getaway,  made  on  the 
sly;  but  it  was  a  daring  method.  The  fall  from  the 
top  of  the  dam  to  the  jagged  rocks  below  was  sixty 
feet,  as  Harvard  well  knew. 

"By  Jove,"  Bing  muttered  to  himself,  "the  fellow 


BELKNAP'S  PREPARED  GETAWAY      313 

deserves  to  get  away!  And  he  will,  if  he  reaches  the 
bottom  in " 

He  stopped,  fascinated  by  what  he  saw. 

The  block  of  wood  into  which  the  spikes  had  been 
driven,  that  had  been  wedged  into  the  masonry  of  the 
dam,  trembled ;  it  was  coming  loose. 

Harvard  reached  out  for  it  frantically.  He  would 
have  grasped  and  held  it  if  he  could,  and  saved  the 
life  of  the  man  he  had  been  pursuing. 

But  he  was  not  quick  enough. 

The  block  of  wood  came  entirely  loose  before  he 
could  seize  upon  it,  and  disappeared  across  the  top  of 
the  dam.  During  an  instant,  which  seemed  an  eternity, 
Harvard  listened ;  but  no  cry  came  up  to  him  from  the 
depths  below;  only  a  dull  thud,  a  subdued  crash,  and 
silence. 

They  found  Belknap  half  an  hour  later.  It  was  ap- 
parent that  he  had  been  killed  instantly.  His  neck 
was  broken,  and  there  was  a  jagged  wound  above 
his  right  temple  besides.  While.  .  .  . 

Unmindful  of  what  was  going  on,  the  guests  at  My- 
quest  slept  peacefully. 

Within  the  larger  garage,  to  which  the  body  of 
Belknap  was  carried,  a  group  of  people  was  gathered. 
There  were  several  strangers  there  who  went  outside, 
presently,  at  the  request  of  Carruthers,  for  they  were 
the  men  who  had  been  assisting  him.  Rodney  Rushton 
was  there,  and  Tom  Clancy,  and  Julius.  Roberta  was 
there,  clinging  close  to  Katherine.  Senator  Maxwil- 
ton  was  there,  he  having  still  been  deep  in  the  discus- 
sion of  genealogy  with  Roberta  when  Katherine  sum- 
moned her.  Bing  Harvard  was  there,  very  silent  and 
very  still. 

When  Carruthers  sent  his  men  away,  he  closed  the 
door  and  turned  to  face  those  who  remained;  but 


314  LADY  OF  THE  NIGHT  WIND 

As  he  made  the  turn  he  swept  one  hand  across  his 
face. 

As  if  by  magic  the  hideous  scar  that  had  so  distorted 
and  changed  his  every  feature,  was  torn  away,  and 
he  stood  revealed  to  all  as  Roderick  Maxwilton. 

Katherine,  who  had  been  a  long  time  in  consultation 
with  Julius,  was,  in  a  half  measure,  prepared  for  it; 
nevertheless  she  started  forward  with  a  quick  cry  of 
joy  and  threw  her  arms  around  her  brother's  neck,  to 
the  utter  amazement  of  Bing. 

It  was  the  Senator  (who,  oddly,  seemed  not  sur- 
prised at  all)  who  stepped  to  Bing's  side  quickly  and 
uttered  the  three  words  that  explained  the  situation. 

"It  is  Roderick,"  he  said;  then,  after  a  moment,  he 
added :  "I  knew  yesterday,  Bingham.  He  took  me  aside 
and  told  me.  Then,  to-night,  after  dinner,  we  went  to- 
gether to  his  mother;  and — Bingham — she  is  as  happy 
now  as  she  was  on  that  day,  years  ago,  when  she 
brought  him  into  the  world." 

"Roberta,"  the  Senator  went  on,  "come  here.  Then : 
"Katherine,  Roberta  is  a  Maxwilton.  She  is  a  cousin, 
many  times  removed.  She  is  even  closer  kin  to  your 
wife,  Tom,"  he  added,  turning  to  Clancy.  "They  had 
the  same  great-grandmother.  She  is,  I  am  proud  to 
state,  a  Maxwilton." 

"You  bet  she  is !"  Roderick  announced,  reaching 
out  and  clasping  one  of  her  hands.  "And  she  is  going 
to  be  a  Maxwilton  by  name  as  well  as  by  nativity." 

"This  is  not  a  moment  nor  a  place  for  rejoicing," 
Katherine  announced,  "so,  although  it  is  late,  I  Want 
you  all  to  come  with  me  to  the  library.  I  have  some- 
thing of  interest  to  tell." 

"One  moment,"  said  Roderick.  "Before  we  leave 
the  silent  member  of  this  party,  I  have  something  to 
tell.  He  has  been  as  bad  as  bad  could  be,  but  there 


BELKNAP'S  PREPARED  GETAWAY      315 

was  an  explanation  for  it,  if  not  an  excuse.  He  is 
dead,  now.  In  his  possession,  when  his  clothing  was 
searched,  we  found  quite  an  assortment  of  papers. 
Some  of  them  related  to  the  hiding  places  of  certain 
engraved  plates  which  the  United  States  government 
will  now  secure,  and  destroy.  Others  referred  to  mat- 
ters connected  with  me,  and  are  proof  sufficient  of  my 
innocence  of  certain  acts  with  which  I  was  once 
charged,  if,  happily,  it  were  not  the  fact  that  I  have 
already  been  acquitted  of  it  by  my  own  department. 
So  I  shall  suggest  that  no  further  reference  be  made 
to  his  misdeeds,  and  in  making  that  proposal  I  know 
that  I  will  have  the  approval  of  my  chief.  He  is  dead. 
Let  him  rest." 

"And  he  died  without  knowing  that  he  did  not  pos- 
sess the  Eye  of  Nadja,"  Katherine  exclaimed.  "I  am 
very  glad  of  that.  Yes,  I  am  glad  of  it." 

And,  until  she  told  her  story  in  the  library,  they 
did  not  know  what  she  meant. 


THE  END 


000  131  872     4 


